Made In Error
by moonatik
Summary: Nero worries that his 'peculiar' feelings toward Dante are part of a demon's influence, and seeks the D-man himself for answers. DaNero yaoi. COMPLETE? Just kidding!
1. Made In Error

**A/N:** While I'm struggling slightly with my Dynasty Warriors fic, I thought I'd submit this shorter story I've managed to complete, at least until further notice. .

THIS IS DANTExNERO YAOI! If that's not your thing, then you know what to do.

Otherwise, please enjoy it.

I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters featured herein. This piece it meant purely for entertainment, _not_ for profit!

* * *

"Will we meet again?" It pained him to have to ask.

Without so much as turning around, the cowboyish half-demon raised his arm and flicked his wrist in a half-hearted wave. Nero interpreted it as a 'maybe', but not to stake his life on it. Nero never liked maybes, and he wanted to run and jump kick Dante square in the face again for his noncommittal response. Dante had acted like a father, an elder brother, a mentor, and a wise friend. If Dante hadn't shown up and pulled his ass out of the fire, he and Kyrie would still be organs for the Savior, and all of the world would have turned into a demonic cesspool of evil dogma and twisted experiments. Why, after all that, and after Dante had entrusted him with Yamato, would he not turn around and make it a promise either way?

He didn't move to make good on his violent impulse, especially when his heart swelled as he watched Dante's retreating form. When he turned to look at Kyrie, he was overcome with sorrow. He almost felt like he needed to apologize. He never did, but only because he never thought his heartache was wrong.

What Nero did apologize to Kyrie for, however, was his subsequent absence. He made the point that Kyrie herself had nothing to do with his decision. She was a marvelous girl, blessed with beauty and a pure heart, having not a stain on her soul or conscience, and was the very symbol of those worthwhile facets of love and innocence in humanity that he and Dante had fought to defend. Nero appreciated Kyrie like no other time before he saved her and helped bring down the Order. Afterwards, however, he also saw her in a different light. She was someone who, just by the way she treated him, could teach him to purify his human side. She was what he believed in, and it thus armed him with the heart to face anything Hell sent their way. Nero felt he had as much to live up to with her as he did in competing with Dante.

Dante. Nero knew he was a changed man because of Dante, too, and he had been the start of it all. There was no use denying what was made obvious by his glowing blue Devil Bringer--that like the older man, he was able fight only because of his demonic taint. Despite the necessity to his cause, it was a side that he still believed he knew so little about. That hole in his life was something Kyrie could not solve; he could only depend on Dante for his answers. Afterward, he would return.

That is why, after some months of clean up, and shortly after life had gone back to normal in Fortuna, that Nero left town to find Dante. Kyrie, in all her sweetness, understood that it was a pilgrimage he had to undertake. He had slung Red Queen between his shoulder blades and holstered Blue Rose around his waist just in case. As he concealed his Devil Bringer by wrapping it in a sling, he considered that tracking down such an elusive individual as Dante would not be easy, especially after so much time had passed.

Later on his mission, while pondering the same question as how to locate Dante, he also tried not to worry that his savings only amounted to a couple of bills and some loose change. He had plunked down half of it at a bar just outside of town for the day's special: bratwurst and pickles. Not his usual fare, but it was cheap. Additionally, he wanted to eat fast and get the hell out of there--he hated the way strangers looked at him, even if only for the amount of heat he was packing, and in many different ways.

As he wolfed down his meal, he listened to the low hum of banter filling the bar. He slowed his chewing when a peculiar conversation entered his ear.

"Tolso's got itself an infestation," a male voice said.

"Yeah? I hadn't heard about that," his associate replied.

"All the buses and trains have suspended service there. And refugees are comin' through." A pause. "They say its Agnus' projects that escaped into the sewers when they torched the lab in Fortuna."

"You don't say. They gonna clean it up? That town's got some of the best restaurants."

"I hear the mayor's got some exterminators on the case. Said to be real pros in that sort of thing."

"Lemme guess. Devil May Cry?"

"Heh, how'd you figure?"

"Seriously? Well for one, there ain't that many businesses specialized in that field like they are, and two, the mayor would have to be the most retarded homo-simian to say no to the juggies the manager has workin' for him."

"I'd let a monster gnaw on me if I knew I would get a glimpse at that blonde's rack. Maybe two."

"Truth. I'd be screwin' 'em both at the same time every night if I were him."

"He probably does already. But isn't he getting a little old?"

"Who knows. But supposedly he's a half-breed, so maybe he's got a lot of mileage to spare."

"Lucky bastard."

Nero wasn't used to such crass banter in his pious hometown of Fortuna, but the exchange did give him a clue. No longer interested in his meal, he thanked the barkeep and left for Tolso.


	2. Fire Fight

Nero spent a better part of the day traveling on foot to Tolso--the customer at the bar wasn't kidding when he said the town had been completely isolated. No one was even willing to drop him off at the outskirts, and had no cash to make his bargaining more persuasive.

Nonetheless, the trip had been long and uneventful as he reached the road into town. Even then, there was not a sound or sight to be sensed, save for the sand, smoke, and refuse scattering along the wind. Nero took to penetrating the city streets with efficiency, hopping over car wrecks and along rooftops as if they were lillypads. He travelled until he caught sight of a wide avenue. Presuming it to be main street, he leapt from a damaged buttress and landed on the multi-laned street.

"What a mess," Nero observed. Indeed, it had looked like Fortuna the day Dante had arrived: cars flipped over, peppered with holes and striped with fractures, others smoldering in pieces. The dense stone protrusions of some of the surrounding homes also had also broken off, some pieces big enough to block off side streets. Nero strolled and took in the carnage. His focus shifted, when along his path he saw a manhole cover of the sewer had been popped off.

Not popped off, as Nero saw when he got closer, but blasted off. He pinched his nose and knelt down to examine the charred outer rim of the manhole, as well as graze his hands along claw marks that lead from it.

While he examined, the sound of snarling dogs and crackling flames erupted from all sides.

"About time," Nero said to himself. He couldn't surpress a bloodthirsty smirk as he rose to his feet and deftly spun on a heel to face his adversaries--basilisks. Living furnaces from Agnus' nightmarish menagerie, closing in on him atop wrecked vehicles. More spilled out of shop windows. He unsheathed Red Queen with one hand and tore Devil Bringer from its sling. "You mutts like a little fire, huh?" he said, pressing the sword into the asphalt and revving the handle.

Though he was rusty, Nero had little trouble dispatching the entire pack right there with style. Save for one, however, that had decided to flee. The basilisk hightailed it toward the manhole Nero had been inspecting.

"Oh no you don't," Nero said. Too far to grab, he fired his double-barreled revolver. The slugs hit the beast's hindquarters, causing it to stumble, but it's falter was not enough to keep it from skidding into the manhole.

"Damn it," Nero said, running over to the sewer opening. He rocked his upper body from side to side in an attempt to spot the wounded creature down below, so he could fish it out with Devil Bringer and finish it off.

"Like hell I'm going down there after it," Nero muttered, repacking his weapons. He sighed. Although a welcome break from his otherwise dull routine in Fortuna, fixing Tolso wasn't what he had come to do. There was still no sign of the half-breed of Devil May Cry, and therefore Nero couldn't leave until he confirmed it to be Dante.

Still holding onto the hilt of his sword, Nero turned and walked away from the manhole, intent on searching the other parts of town. He was about a dozen yards out when a rumbling beneath the earth made him pause. He turned as the rumble surged into an earthquake, its epicenter at the same gaping manhole in the street. The energy culminated, and the asphalt surrounding it burst like an exploding land mine. Flaming rock and metal hurled outward, forcing Nero to tuck and roll behind a bus on its side.

Once the heat dissipated, Nero peeked out from his hiding spot to see that the sewer had released a basilisk, but one that was about twenty times bigger than the usual runts. The basilisk he had wounded darted between the legs of the larger, while the larger swung its massive, fiery head around and sniffed the air.

"Fantastic. You brought along Mama, you son of a bitch," Nero said, stepping out from behind the bus. He didn't want to have to deal with this. He wasn't the one getting paid for it. He could not with good conscience, however, allow the thing to go on its rampage and ruin all the pretty architecture of the town. That just wasn't his style.

To get the Mama's attention, he triggered, whipped out Blue Rose, and shot the smaller basilisk down dead instantly. The "Mama's" attention first went to its dying child as it squealed and writhed before it disintigrated, then snarled when its focus shifted to Nero down the block. "Sorry Fido, but that's what happens to bad dogs," Nero said. "Time to put you down as well."

The giant basilisk roared and lunged, intent on incinerating Nero with one bite. Nero dodged with a well-timed roll to the side. He peppered it with bullets and took careful sword swipes whenever possible, and in such a manner he sparred with the beast.

As it weakened, it decided on a new tactic, but one not unlike its smaller counterparts'. The basilisk planted its paws down firmly and leaned back to build pressure in its core in order to launch its flaming head.

"That's original," Nero said. "But I've got better idea. Why don't we play-" he began, and as the basilisk fired its head, Nero snatched with his devil arm and finished with "Fetch!"

He caught the giant head, and pulling it back like a baseball, he returned it with brutal force. The head entered back through its neck, and exploded inside its belly. The counterattack dazed the creature, its headless form dropping to the ground. Seeing an opportunity, Nero triggered and leaped onto its back, hacking away with Yamato and Red Queen.

Suddenly, from out of the headless stump leaped a pair of smaller basilisks. They struck out at Nero and knocked him from their mother's back. Their bodies were glowing hot from their recent manufacture, and with feral vigor they tackled and pinned Nero to the cracked street. Meanwhile, the mother had regenerated its head, and righted herself to bear down on Nero's struggling form.

"Shit," Nero muttered. His devil trigger spent, he blocked and kicked at the dogs wildly in an attempt to flee, but the heat of flames and molten metal stung his eyes. Game over. "It can't be," he said. The giant basilisk approached to deliver the fatal blow, and Nero closed his eyes to see the image of Dante sprang to his mind, and thought to shout his name.

Before he could, he heard gunshots ring out, followed by the sound of a blade slicing through the air. He opened his eyes to see the dogs on him yelp disintegrate into ash, and the larger recoil as a spinning sword gouged itself across its muzzle.

"Toasty enough for ya, kid?" a familiar voice called out. Nero glanced up to see Rebellion whirling through the air back to its owner upon a rooftop above. Dante, complete with two smoking barrels.

"Heh, you're late!" Nero replied, curling onto his shoulders and leaping to safety with Red Queen in hand.

"Or perhaps you've come just a bit too soon." Dante dropped from the roof and approached Nero. "The early bird gets the worm, I guess. I should thank you. Makes the paycheck practically cash itself."

"That's all you care about here?" Nero said, huffing.

Dante smiled and propped Rebellion on his shoulder, saying "Of course not. But if you knew how many zeroes there were on it, I'm sure you'd forgive lil' ol' me."

Nero rolled his eyes. "Well then, don't let me get between you and the bank," he said, folding his arms and seating himself on the bumper of a car. "Carry on," he continued, gesturing with mock courtesy toward the flaming hellbeast. Dante smirked at him, then turned to finish what Nero had started. Nero could not help smiling himself, his eyes refusing to part for a second from the elder man. He found great entertainment watching Dante whittle down the monstrous demon with expert grace, and was truly mesmerized by the perfection Dante had achieved with his skills. Able to flavor his skills with his own cheeky humor as well, Dante was someone Nero knew was irreplacable in this world. Nero, feeling his heart flutter, knew he did the right thing in coming to see him again, and was truly glad for it. Color entered Nero's cheeks, but he thought that the heat from the beasts that was getting to him.

With a triumphant cry, Dante delivered the finishing blow to the mother basilisk. She faltered with a howl as her flames withered, and her body then broke down into ash, save for the spikes of her dog collar that clunked to the ground. Dante, spinning around to face his audience, took an exaggerated bow. In response, Nero golfclapped with as much sarcasmas he could convey. Dante laughed as he brushed off his pants and straightened.

"So how about you, kid? Aren't you a little lost out here?" Dante said. "You've come a long way to try and cash in on someone else's business."

"Cash in? Hey pal, I heard there was a problem here," Nero replied, rising to his feet as well. "And it just so happened that the rumors were right for a change."

"Funny, I never figured you for a gossip," Dante said. He waited to relish in Nero's glower before he continued, "But you can piss off if you think I'm gonna let you handle this stuff for free like some fairytale hero. I got a rep to keep, so if that's your game, then go home. We can clean up the rest."

Nero, unable to wrap his mind around Dante's selfishness, could think of nothing to say. Dante folded his arms and quirked a brow, telegraphing his suspicions about Nero's intentions. "Unless there is another motive here I'm not quite understanding," he said. Cornered by Dante's questioning stance, Nero sighed.

"I didn't come to ruin your business," Nero said. "I heard that a half-breed was on the case here, of Devil May Cry. I wasn't even sure it was you, but I wanted to see for myself. Then that thing showed up, and I wasn't about to leave it alone."

A smile slowly curved its way onto Dante's expression. "I was only teasing, kid. I know you didn't come to do any harm," he said, patting Nero on the shoulder. "And there's no harm done. You did the right thing. Like I said, you actually made things a bit easier, though I was looking forward to a bit more fun." He scratched a temple with the barrel of Ebony. "Although saving your life again wasn't what I was expecting."

Nero sighed again, but also gave light chuckle. "Guess I owe you another one."

Dante studied him, seeming to have a thought rolling in his mind. He then whipped his chin behind him and said, "Come on then, kid. Let's finish up here and then I'll take you back to HQ for a chat." Dante knew such words would part the clouds around Nero's thoughts, and they did for the time being.


	3. Pizza!

Finished with Tolso, Dante dropped the evidence of the slain mother basilisk--one of the giant spikes--off with the mayor who was temporarily residing in a neighboring town. Literally, he had plunked it down right in front of him. He had insisted that Nero witness and expose his demon arm as well. The mayor, intimidated by both the spike and Nero's Devil Bringer, handed over payment without a fuss. Dante, on the way back to Devil May Cry, explained that his business tactics weren't personal, just his way of ensuring there were no 'misunderstandings' coming from clients who might try to weasel him. Nero nodded, unsure of why he had to have been present. Dante could be intimidating enough.

"You don't get invited to many swanky dinner parties, do you?" Nero remarked.

Dante laughed. "That'd be the day."

They arrived at Dante's establishment not long after their "business," Nero all the while surpressing his excitement that he would see the home base of the legendary Son of Sparda. Nero grimaced a bit at the tawdry neon sign overhanging the door, a door which Dante threw open and entered with exaggerated swagger. Unwavering otherwise, Nero shook his head and followed.

"Welcome home," Dante announced, slinging his coat across his desk before moving to drop his supplies and remount his numerous weapons for display.

Nero placed his own equipment down near the door and looked around, and tried his damnedest not to ask where the real Devil May Cry was. To Nero, the HQ was more like a dreary bachelor pad--as bachelor pads go. Nothing more than that, really, Nero thought. There was a couch that had seen better days, the desk designed with little else in mind than function, and a set of warped stairs leading to a second floor. Off to the side was a juke box and a pool table as well, thought its original deep green had long left its fibers. Any 'carpet' there was consisted of discarded pizza boxes and crumpled magazine remnants.

"Cozy," Nero said, not sure if he meant to sound sarcastic. He plunked himself down onto the couch which, despite its ruffled condition, was very pliant and comfy. As he leaned back, he wondered where Dante was investing his money, since it obviously didn't go into home and office decor. If his jobs paid like the one they got back from, then it must go somewhere. Looking around, then occurred to him that perhaps it was going toward covering his disturbingly out of control pizza addiction.

Dante, having decided to reorganize his stuff later, let the rest lie where it fell. He glanced at Nero's seated form, and instantly knew what was needed. He went to the kitchen and returned with two longnecks. He handed one to Nero.

"C'mon," Dante said when Nero looked up at him, but without moving to take the bottle. "The Order was a sham, and you couldn't have been that devout anyway."

Sighing, Nero took the bottle, de-capped it one swift motion with his teeth, and took a long swig. The macho series of actions earned him an appreciative nod from the older man, who took his seat on the opposite end of the couch. The two hunters sipped their drinks in silence.

"So, I know there is something else you're not telling me," Dante said after having downed his drink. "You sought me out. Even put yourself in danger to find me. So, what is it?"

Nero looked down at his Devil Bringer, and clenched it into a fist. He then said, "I need some answers," he began. "I feel better about having this, thing" he continued, unclenching his demon hand. "But I still have my doubts about who I am. I know it's an imposition, but I think you're the only one who can help me figure myself out. You're the only one I know who understands how to cope with a demon side. You're more than me, a half, and yet you go about life like a breeze, like everything's hunky-dory. I wish I could think that way."

"Such a kid," Dante remarked.

Nero rolled his head along the back of the couch to glare at Dante and huff, earning him a lopsided grin from the older man. "Can't you take me seriously, you dickshit?" Nero said.

"Always," Dante replied quickly, without hesitation. At that, Nero pursed his lips, having to yield to a good parry when he heard one.

"Hold that thought," Dante said, rising from the couch to head to the kitchen again. He came back, this time toting as many beers as he could squeeze between his fingers. He plopped back down and knocked one back in one long swig. He seemed to be in his own world as he Nero watched him grab another and gulp down another three-quarters. Dante then pulled the bottle from his lips and rotated to face Nero.

"Seriously, you can't think that way yet because you're young," Dante said, breathing out a bit of built up carbination. He paused, and sighed as he studied Nero, a little too closely for his subject's comfort. "You know," Dante then said, "I see so much of myself in you, which is why you ought to believe me when I say this: you're going to turn out fine. Demons submit only to the union of a good heart and a sharp mind. Always. That's the only reason I can think of for why I never went crazy over it." He took another swig, shallower this time. "The heart is the more volatile of the two, though. My twin brother-" he winced as the last words flew out of his mouth and invoked vivid memories. "My twin brother had the mind, definitely."

"I didn't know he was your twin," Nero said.

"Yeah. But even though he was my twin, keeping his heart is where he really dropped the ball."

"Perhaps you inherited it all," Nero remarked. Dante smirked, taking another sip.

"That could be. But listen, Vergil's strength needs that heart to wield in the right way, which is why I let you keep Yamato," Dante said. "You've earned it."

"Hmm," Nero uttered, studying his arm again, trying to feel Dante's common blood within. Dante watched him as he downed the rest of the bottle.

"No wonder..." Nero trailed off, twisting the cap to his second beer and putting it to his lips.

"No wonder what?"

Nero swallowed, and said, "No wonder it's so powerful, and no wonder why you wanted to get it back. If he's your twin, after all."

"Yeah. Say, you hungry?" Dante said, leaping to his feet and heading to the desk.

Nero blinked as Dante swerved the conversation so unexpectedly, but did in fact note hunger pangs nibbling in his gut.

"Uh, sure," Nero said.

"How's pizza sound?"

"Do you eat anything else?"

Dante pretended to think for a moment. "Pussy?" he suggested.

Nero rolled his eyes. "I bet. I've heard that you have some ladies working for you."

"Ah, you mean Trish and Lady," Dante said, picking up the phone receiver and leaning against a corner of the desk. While dialing, he said, "There was a time when I did screw the brains out of them on a regular basis. Not at the same time, but if I were younger that might be worth bargaining for."

"You don't, uh, screw them anymore?" Nero said, trying to make the word 'screw' sound polite while also sounding a little too interested.

"Yes, Pizza Demon? Dante. The usual. Yep. 30 minutes? Okay, thanks." Dante said into the receiver. He tossed the phone and receiver haphazardly onto the desk, yet miraculously the receiver found the cradle.

"Nah," Dante then said, folding his arms. "Those fires died out long ago. Now all the girls want from me these days is cash, cash, and more cash."

Nero nodded, tilting his head so that he stared at the floor between his boots. He wasn't sure why he felt relieved. While pondering, he scarcely noticed Dante approach him until he saw his cowboy boots enter his field of vision. His face darted up to find Dante hunched over close, his face merely a foot away from Nero's. Nero could smell the beer lingering on Dante's breath.

Dante almost chuckled at seeing Nero look at him like a deer caught in headlights. "You ever been laid, kid?"

"Laid?" Nero repeated. Then it dawned. "Asshole! Of course I have. Plenty of times!"

Dante smirked incredulously. "A player, hmm? Too bad for that girl of yours, whatever her name was. Or maybe she's a lot more wild than she looks."

That struck a nerve, and Nero locked onto Dante's eyes with the deadliest glare he could muster. "Don't talk about Kyrie like that. She will always be pure of body as she is of soul," Nero said pointedly, his ire flaring, evidenced by the oscillating glow of his Devil Bringer.

Unphased, Dante brought his face closer and said, "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

Mortified, Nero blanched and pulled back slightly. He wasn't sure what he was more angry with, Dante or his obvious embarrassment.

Dante then straightened himself upright and said, "Tell me, are you sure it's your demon side that you're having issues with?"

Nero's jaw dropped to speak, but before he could respond, the door slammed wide open.

"We're home!" a female voice called, and in stepped the most voluptous woman Nero had ever seen. Blonde hair fluttering behind her, she stepped into the room with a sultry gait. A second woman, and no less well-endowed, with shorter, liquorice-colored hair also stepped inside. The way they carried themselves made them seem even more intimidating to Nero, not to mention the heavy artillery that the second female might as well be packing.

"Who the hell is this?" the dark-haired woman asked, raising the sunglasses on her face slightly to get a better look at Nero.

"Remember that worthless job you came in spouting off about some months ago? The one in Fortuna?" Dante said, seating himself at his desk and propping his feet up.

The woman rotated her head to pierce Dante with a glare before saying, "Yeah?"

"He's from that town."

The woman smirked. "He's cute," she said, readjusting her shades. "Do they all look like him?"

Nero smiled at the compliment, as well as the small 'hrumph' that it elicited from Dante. Nero rose to his feet to offer her his left hand, trying his best to tuck Devil Bringer out of her sight. "Name's Nero."

Quirking a brow, but not moving to take his hand, said, "I'm Lady." She then spun on her heel and waltzed over Dante, saying, "You adopting him or something?"

"He followed me home, so I guess I'm stuck with him."

"You promise to feed and look after him?" she cooed. She turned around and winked at Nero, adding, "Because I certainly wouldn't mind doing it."

"No need to worry about that," Dante assured. "I'm sure I got a bowl and a leash around here I can put his name on."

Nero fumed, both at feeling excluded as well as talked about like an abandoned puppy. To the blonde woman who had remained silent but attentive, he said, "Excuse me."

With that, he whipped out Devil Bringer and projected it to lift a leg of Dante's chair, sending the hunter tumbling backwards. Dante flailed and fell onto his back with a thud, visibly stunned by what just happened.

Lady, seized by a boisterous fit of laughter, whipped her attention back around to Nero and his glowing arm.

"You don't take shit lying down, either, hmm?" she said, approaching him. She reached out to pick up Nero's Devil Bringer and run her fingers over its peculiar, leathery scales. "Quite an ace here. I think I'm definitely gonna like this kid."

"Hey!" Nero piped, pulling his arm away from her. "Lady, with all due respect, I'm not a 'kid'. I hear it enough from that geezer already, and I don't need to hear his bullshit from anybody else."

"Don't listen to him. He's a kid," Dante said, having collected himself. "Ouch," he muttered, hoisting himself back up.

"Screw you, old man," Nero shot back.

"Spunky fellow, ain't he?" Lady observed.

"You have no idea," Dante replied, massaging the back of his head.

The blonde, who had been watching in quiet amusement, then took her cue to smile at Nero and say, "Welcome to Devil May Cry."

Happy to divert his attention, Nero walked over to her, smiling and saying, "You must be Trish." He offered his right without realizing, then awkwardly switched to his left.

"See what I mean?" Dante said.

Without acknowledging Dante nor Nero's gesture neither, she turned around and said, "I'll bring down some blankets."

"Blankets?" Nero asked as Trish headed upstairs.

"This ain't a hotel," Dante answered, coming around from behind the desk. "The couch is all yours."

"Dante!" Lady admonished. "You should at least offer him your room."

"No need. The kid knows how my manners are," Dante said, walking closer to Nero. "Unless he wants to be in my bed."

"Just leave me right the fuck out of your perverted fantasies," Nero said, but swallowed hard at the idea of getting lost in Dante's soft sheets.

"Heh, if you insist," Dante said, grinning madly.

Another hard swallow.

"Oh my," Lady said with a chuckle. "I ought to warn you, hon--Dante here will fuck anything that lives under this roof. He thinks he's some kinda alpha male."

"Lies and slander!" Dante rebutted, feigning outrage. "I know I'm the alpha male."

"Whatever you say. You boys just play nice, alright," Lady said. She then turned to retire upstairs. Not a moment after her footsteps faded was there a knock on the door.

"Pizza!" Dante exclaimed, pushing aside Nero and heading to the door. "Thanks," he said to the delivery man, receiving a stack of pizza boxes.

"You two were joking, right?" Nero asked once Dante shut the door. "Or else I'm sleeping with one eye open."

"Lady hash a 'ild imag'nayshun, and ish rather contagioush at timesh," Dante said, already chewing on the corner of a slice. "Bu' really, if you 'ould free-fer a bed, I 'an take ah coush."

"Come again?"

Dante ripped the slice out of his mouth and said, "Want the bed?"

"I'll be fine down here," Nero assured, walking over and ripping off a slice for himself before it all disappeared.


	4. Accident

Couch or bed, Nero couldn't sleep anyway. His mind refused to shut down. Stuffing himself on three extra large Cheezy Supreme Dyno-mite Pizzas didn't help, either, feeling his stomach try its best to deal with the all the grease and beer he'd poisoned it with.

It was also Dante. His musk was all over the couch. Though it was diluted by the smell of leather and a vague scent of stale perfume, the pillow Trish had found for him was soaked with Dante, too. Nero had long thrown it to the ground and away from his nostrils, but the couch cushions were decidedly poor substitutes.

The olfactory torture was unbearable when coupled with Dante's incessant smiles and innuendo that Nero replayed in his mind like a broken record. He soon took to replaying as much of the conversations he could remember ever having with Dante, even the ones from those many months ago. He was obsessed with the pleasure and comfort it gave him to remember, making him wonder how Dante saw him, and whether the legendary devil hunter liked and respected him at all, or if he was just playing with Nero like he always did. The latter, Nero thought, was a painful possibility.

The train of thought brought him to the question that Dante had posed earlier. Was it really his demon side that Nero had questions about? He still had little clue what Dante meant by that, believing his confusion could only be inspired by an inner demon's mischief.

Nero, feeling warm and annoyed with his restlessness, kicked his sheets off and got up from the couch. Clad in only his black leather pants, he headed to the door to go outside to clear his head and cool off.

The air in the streets was cold, though Nero hardly noticed when he stepped outside. He sat under the neon lettering of Devil May Cry and wondered again what "business" he truly had. Everything was normal--except for his acute reactions to Dante's presence, which he felt was growing stronger with every meeting. Was there some otherworldly feedback happening between them? But why would it be so pleasant? Why would it serve only make his face hot, his human skin crawl, and his heart quicken? Even now, those reactions were presenting themselves just at the recollections of Dante's sharp wit, soothing voice, and his perfect frame intersecting in Nero's imagination. Nero closed his eyes, bathing in the electric charges of hope that strained his heart.

And his groin, Nero noticed. His left hand had drifted over himself, and was at half mast just thinking about the elder devil hunter. He wondered what Dante's light stubble would feel against his cheeks, his hands, his thighs, his--...

Embarrassed, he pulled his hand away and glanced down the deserted streets around him to make sure he was truly alone.

'Why would a demon do this to me?' Nero thought, gazing forlornly at his Devil Bringer. He sighed, suddenly feeling the fatigue he had been waiting for dampen the worry in his mind. He turned to go back in and get some needed sleep, when he felt the handle of the door resist him.

"Gotta be fuckin' kidding," he said aloud, jiggling the handle again to confirm his immediate problem: he locked himself out.

He rapped his human fist against the door. "Hey!" he called.

A cold shiver shot through Nero's spine. Although his tolerance for extreme conditions was higher than a pure human's, there was only so much discomfort he could stave off when wearing nothing but a pair of pants. He knocked on the door and called again, steeling himself if he were to endure Dante's teasing after he'd been discovered.

Instead, there was no response, not even the most minute sounds of rustling behind the heavy red door. Nero sighed. He was not one to give up, but his body and spirit told him to make an exception. Exausted with all that had been on his mind, tonight he wasn't in the mood to care. He would survive, and believed dawn would not be far away.

He sat down on the top step and leaned against the door. Despite the sharp edges and awkward position, to say nothing for the cold, Nero dozed, faintly dreaming of violence, Fortuna, and of multi-colored orbs. 


	5. Pressure

It was Sunday morning in Fortuna, and Dante was glad to be back for a visit. Mass was in full swing at the beautiful church, a church even lovelier inside. Mid-morning rays filtered through complex designs of stained glass, speckling the altar in variegated polygons. The place was jammed, with no square inch of pew was left unseated, and the hymns sung by--what was her name?--were truly divine.

Although, not as divine as the muffled moans erupting from the Order's golden boy who at the moment was bent over and impaled on Dante's cock. Dante wasn't a religious man, but raw sex in a public place was one custom he had a secret fanaticism about. Or was it just fantasy? Beyond that, he had a particular reverence for Nero who, despite having his demonic anatomy, could be nothing less than Heaven sent.

They were naked, hidden behind curtains draped in the back of the church, not a few yards away from the nearest anonymous worshipper currently enraptured by the ceremony. If not for the distraction, they would no doubt be able to make out the lewd slaps of flesh coming from Dante's merciless thrusting into Nero's welcoming ass. Hell, it was a surprise to Dante if they didn't make out Nero's bitten back cries of painful pleasure.

"Don't you _dare_ fucking scream," Dante had hissed in his ear. "Because I'll keep fucking you, just the way you like it, right in front of everyone and your little girlfriend."

Nero had brought the knuckles of his Devil Bringer between his lips to stifle himself, biting down hard on its tough hide. Dante, always an admirer of the kid's tenacity, tenderly kissed Nero up and down his spine to offer as a pecks of comfort.

And so they rutted like animals, both knowing that one mistake would expose them, and their excitement boiled as hot as their urgent need for release. Dante dug his fingertips into the perfect skin of Nero's hips and forced him again and again onto his aching need, and Nero soon began choking back sobs of passion, alerting Dante that he was close, the noises uncomfortably loud and adding immensely to the erotic danger of their coupling. Dante sped up, determined to come, and reached down to give his partner much needed stimulation. Nero groaned at the touch, and at a volume so loud that his demon hand could not hold it back. Dante cried out, knowing they would be discovered any second, but also knowing that he was having the best orgasm of his life. He swore he heard footsteps approaching, but no longer cared, for he was at that moment grunting like a bull as he balled Nero erratically, pumping Nero's bowels full of his white hot spunk.

Suddenly, the curtain was drawn back, and Dante was engulfed in a blinding light. His head was swimming, and his body soon felt the stick of damp sheets against his bare flesh. The light soon melted into darkness, and at that point he realized with great dismay what he had been enjoying: a wonderful, too-good-to-be-true nightmare of a dream.

Cursing under his breath, he opened his eyes to his dark room, then sat up to peel away the sheets that clung to his sweat-slicked skin. He needed to find the bathroom and "wash up", for his arousal had been transmitted to his waking self. He slipped on loose-fitting pants and headed for the bathroom, unable to banish the image of Nero his subconscious had conjured, and wondering how besotted he was for Nero to make him feel like a teenager again.

He ran a soaked washcloth over his skin, sighing softly at the soothing coolness. As his mind cleared, hefelt the inexplicable desire to check on Nero.

He descended the stairs with light footsteps, hopping over the planks he knew would creak. He was a little over halfway when he noticed, by the light of the streetlamps outside, that Nero was missing from the couch. He glanced over to see that Nero's equipment was still in place, the only clue that he was still nearby. Dante walked over and tugged the sheets up, then began searching the first floor as well as the kitchen. Puzzled at finding no other clues, he went to the front door and opened it.

He nearly fell on his ass when his toes collided into the back of the very person he was looking for. Dante stared down in shock at the violently shivering body at his door.

"Hey, kid!" Dante said, giving him a light shake. He repeated himself and the action, and when he failed to get a response, he swiftly grabbed the sheets from the couch and wrapped Nero in them like a coccoon. He then hooked his arms beneath his shoulders and knees and lifted the younger man up to carry him in.

"Such a kid," Dante breathed, fascinated with how delicate Nero felt at that moment, and how truly beautiful it was to see his pale cheek resting lightly against Dante's bare shoulder.

Reaching the couch, Dante kneeled and rolled Nero onto its cushions. His shivering still racked him through, but with longer intervals of stillness between. The younger man seemed to be delirious, rocking his head from side to side and batting his eyelids rapidly. Through the sheets Dante could still make out the glow of his Devil Bringer, and brought a hand to close over it. The other he lifted to brush Nero's cheek and to feel his forehead.

"A fever," Dante muttered. "Shit. What the hell were you thinking?"

Gently, Dante unwrapped Nero from the sheets. He lifted Nero again, maneuvering so that Dante could lie with his back pressed into the couch with Nero lying slightly atop of him. Dante then pulled the sheets over them with one hand, wrapping the other around the younger's waist.

"Sorry, kid," Dante whispered.

Dante reasoned to himself that this was to get the kid's fever down, but he would not deny that this was the most blissful remedy he'd ever prescribed. He relished in the feeling, finding it hard to do otherwise when his nose hovered near the boy'd angel soft hair, smelling faintly of sweat and honey. From that alone, Dante knew that Nero was far sexier than he could ever dream. With the hand around Nero's waist, Dante began to draw lazy circles on his porcelain skin, admiring how smooth and soft he was, yet stone solid with slender musculature. Dante knew he was driving himself mad, unable to restrain himself when he began nuzzling into Nero's white locks, wanting to draw him in even closer and soak the pain away from him.

Dante suddenly felt a sting of his conscience, knowing that he shouldn't be taking advantage of Nero while he was so disoriented. Nero would probably try to hang him with his own bowels if Nero could see their position. Dante, however, so enamoured with the boy's vulnerability at the moment, found it impossible to talk himself out of his further impulses.

He drew his lips lightly across Nero's cheek, then curled down to taste the skin of his shoulder across from him. The taste and smell of Nero so close tugged at his groin, and he involuntarily ground himself into Nero's hip. Growing bolder, his lips pressed to Nero's clavicle, and he nipped and licked along the ridge to the crook of his neck, where he latched on and sucked greedily.

"Dante..." he heard the boy above him breathe. The whisper was followed by a soft groan, both sounds rocketing straight to Dante's stirring cock, causing Dante to pull back his lips. The kid was coming to, and Dante wasn't sure if he was glad for it.

"Nero." Dante said gruffly, pulling his face up to hover over Nero's. He watched the boy's eyes flutter as he slowly regained awareness.

"Dante?" Nero hissed, jerking in an attempt to sit up.

"Shh," Dante said, putting the back of his hand to Nero's forehead. "Don't panic. You had a fever. I think it's gone now."

"What?" Nero said stupidly, trying to do his best with grogginess on top of sensory overload.

"Heh. Sorry you had to wake up like this," Dante said, moving to disentangle himself from Nero. He was suddenly awash with shame, and decided to absolve himself with a very cold shower.

"Dante!" Nero then said with urgency. The older man stopped to look at Nero expectantly, but then his eyes darted down to where Nero lifted his fingers and felt along his collarbone, feeling dampness there. Dante looked back up,finding that Nero's eyes had glazed over, and that he was breathing faster. "You were kissing me," he then said.

For the first time in many years, Dante felt acute embarrassment come on, overwriting his previous feeling of guilt. Deciding to man up to it, Dante said huskily, "I can't help it if you're fucking gorgeous, can I?"

Nero's breath caught at the apparent sincerity of his words, backed with the strain of Dante's evident arousal at his hipbone. Nero, feeling nothing but Dante's own soft exterior pressed so close to him, smelling nothing but Dante's earthy musk, and seeing nothing but Dante's intense expression, also felt his own arousal bloom.

Nero's thin, deep pink lips drew closer, hovering under Dante's thick, ruby ones, wanting so desperately to taste him, but insufferable doubt wrenched his heart. He whispered, "I won't be a demon."


	6. Kiss & Make up

"I won't be a demon."

With that, Nero sat up and swung his legs around. He got up to retreive his pants and slip them on, leaving Dante to his genuine astonishment.

"Get out," Dante growled. An earnest, furious growl. "Get the _fuck_ out of here."

Not expecting Dante's order and in such a tone, Nero spun around to see Dante get up and approach him with hateful determination. He seized Nero by his shoulders, but not before Nero reflexively did the same, lightly digging his blue claws into Dante's skin.

"Get your fucking hands off me, freakshow," Dante said. He then released a shoulder to crack a fist across the younger's cheek. Nero faltered under the blow, and had little time to react before he felt himself being forced toward the door by a shoulder and the waistband of his pants.

"What the fuck, Dante!" Nero yelled, pushing against the older man and dragging his feet as Dante's superior strength edged him ever closer. He felt another dizzying blow cross his face, and as he touched fingers to his bleeding lips, he shivered when he felt the cold outdoor air blast from the open door and roll over his bare skin.

"Dante! Why are you doing this!" Nero shrieked, roughly shaking himself free from Dante's grasp. "This is just a demon's spell!"

"Heh. You still think that's what this is? That'd be just fucking _great_, wouldn't it?" Dante said, grabbing Nero's waistband with both hands. He yanked upwards roughly, bringing Nero's face close to his. "This is why you'll always be just a _kid_, kid. You say you came to me because of your demon side, but too bad only one of us realizes that's a giant crock of shit."

Dante then tilted his head and tenderly grazed his teeth under Nero's chin. Nero shivered, panic and pleasure colliding like waves in his mind. He closed his eyes, but Dante then shook him and, in a harsh breath, said "Come back when you finally figure that riddle out, alright kid?"

Dante then lifted Nero up even higher and threw him out the door and down the steps. He then grabbed Red Queen and Blue Rose resting nearby and threw them out the door as well. Nero, having landed hard on his side, stayed still, unable to believe such treatment was happening. His waistcoat appeared along with his weapons that landed beside him, and he flinched when Dante slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows. Any delusion Nero was entertaining about his abuse being a part of a cruel prank vanished with that final act.

Nero pulled himself to his feet, shaking off any persisting pain from his scraped shoulder and busted lip, both areas already knitting back together. Though he was healing, and despite the frosty air piercing his bones, Nero felt himself burn with fury. Dante had gone too far, and Nero could have cared fucking less what his cryptic words were supposed to mean.

In an instant, Nero was wailing on the the shop door. "Open the door, Dante!" he shouted. "This is real fucking mature, and you think to call me a kid!"

He received no response, but nonetheless kept pounding on the wooden barrier. He gave Dante a minute before yelling, "I'll break this damn door down!"

With that promise, his Devil Bringer began to glow, and whisps of demonic power wafted from its bright blue veins.

Meanwhile, just after Dante had slammed the door, he pressed an arm and forehead against the other side. He winced when the kid began pounding and screaming obscenities. Dante hadn't been sure if his actions were entirely justified--the degree of anger he felt over Nero's rejection came on so quickly, and from where he did not know. What he did know, was that he was dealing with powerful emotions that he, in all his many years, had rarely dealt with before.

What was so damn special about that aggravating twerp?

"You love him, don't you?" a voice behind Dante said. The devil hunter twisted to glance behind his shoulder at Trish, shrouded in shadow, who was standing halfway down the stairs. He sighed, turning back around.

"I threw him out of my fucking house."

"Better let him back in before he wakes the rest of the neighborhood."

Dante sighed again. "He needs to learn a lesson."

"About what?"

"About who he thinks he is."

"And who do you think he is?"

Dante paused to think before saying, "A mixed up kid who won't let himself have what he wants."

"Sounds familiar."

"Heh," Dante grunted, relaxing his shoulders.

"You'll do the right thing. You both always do," she said. Dante listened as she turned and made her way back up the steps. He hated how painfully right she was, more times than not. She made him feel like more an asshole at this moment, but for once he felt as though he deserved it.

"I'm going to break this damn door down!" Dante heard Nero shout. Despite the threat, Dante smiled, and he gripped the doorknob. He flung the door open, just as Nero threw his demon fist with a its phantom projection preceding. His eyes widened in surprise, but his momentum forced him clumsily through the open door. Dante reached out to catch him, who then pinned his arms to his sides with a bearhug.

"Let me go!" Nero demanded, squirming in Dante's hold. He grit his teeth and gave Dante the deadliest glare the elder hunter had seen yet, and was concerned for a moment that Nero might try to literally bite his face off.

"Get a fucking grip, Nero," Dante said in monotone, squeezing Nero even more tightly.

"Fuck you!" Nero spat, writhing even more desperately. Suddenly, Dante brought a hand up to wrap around the base of Nero's skull and pulled him roughly to his lips. Nero froze in shock, having failed to notice in his struggle that in contrast, Dante had been staring at him with such stillness and calm. Dante's eyes had been lidded and he was breathing hard, enchanted by the kid's vigor and wild personality as he had always been. Dante sighed through his nose, and as the warm breath washed over Nero's cold cheeks, he found little restraining himself as he closed his eyes and parted his lips to grant Dante further access.

At Nero's implicit permission, Dante broke the kiss abruptly. "Look at me," he commanded. Nero opened his eyes, nearly shivering at Dante's expression--eyes wide and face flush, a fierce mix of pure desire.

"This has nothing to do with demons. This has everything to do with honesty. I've made my feelings clear. Whatever you do from here is your call, but for fuck's sake, don't tease me when I want you this much," Dante said. His head dropped down to lay a light kiss on Nero's collarbone to emphasize.

"Dante," Nero sighed. "Then what I'm feeling...is human? God, Dante, I want you to touch me."

"Well, that wasn't so hard to figure out," Dante breathed, pulling them further in so he could close the door with a drag of his foot. As the door shut, Dante slammed Nero against it and crushed his lips to the younger man's, running his hands over the firm, slightly sweaty skin of his upper torso. He pressed his own chest close, the short dustings of his chest hair creating a friction that, coupled with Dante's intoxicating scent and rough hands, drove Nero out of his mind. He moaned into the kiss, encouraging Dante to explore lower and massage Nero's buttocks and lower back. He dipped his hands under the waistband of Nero's pants and lightly massaged his ass, making Nero gasp. Dante then grabbed him by his ass and pulled him forward so that Dante's erection ground into him.

"So goddamned gorgeous," Dante breathed, pulling his lips away to descend on Nero's throat, licking and nipping the skin he found there.

"Touch me more," Nero whispered. As commanded, Dante let one of his hands rest on Nero's buttocks while the other traveled to the front of his pants. The elder hunter's fingers fumbled briefly with the zipper and button as he opened Nero's fly, causing the younger man's thick erection to spill out. He sighed at the cool air kissing the tender flesh, but his breath caught when Dante's firm hand closed over him.

"Like this?" Dante murmured, now suckling on Nero's earlobe. He gave the cock in his hand a few lazy pumps. He grinned against the skin of Nero's ear when the younger man gasped and awkwardlybucked into his fist.

"You are a virgin," Dante said, stilling the hand on Nero's cock. "We're going to go at your pace," he continued, kissing Nero tenderly on the lips before adding, "You're in control. If you want me to stop, I'll stop."

"No," Nero said. "I don't want to stop. Everything is telling me that I've wanted you in this way from the very beginning." He then leaned in close to whisper, "Fuck me, Dante."

More than happy to oblige, and feeling a huge chunk of self-control crumble away, Dante said nothing but in an instant virtually dragged Nero up the stairs and into his bedroom. He pinched and clawed into Nero's fine skin as he did so, then threw him onto his bed, face down and ass up. Nero felt himself harden even more at the forceful treatment, and the thought of what further was to come. If only Nero knew how short a while it had been since Dante fucked him raw in his dreams.

Nero heard the faint jingle of pants coming loose behind him, knowing Dante to be as desperate and hard as he was, and lifted his hips to start pulling his own garments--that were already unfastened--from his own hips.

"Stop," Nero heard from Dante. "Turn around and do it."

Nero flipped himself over, and his mind blanked when he viewed Dante, full nude. He was clearly older and far more robust than Nero, but there was no mistaking that he was a man chiseled to perfection. His mouth dried when his glances took in his massive erection, standing brilliant and thick, the head glistening like candy in the dimly lit room. He brought his eyes to look back up at Dante's face, who had been giving him the softest smile the whole time. The look calmed him after seeing the size of Dante's throbbing member--a look that said everything would be all right, that this was Nero's show.

Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, Nero then slowly shimmied his way out of the garment, twisting so that every contour of his hips, genitals, and thighs would be exposed for Dante's viewing pleasure, and relished in the soft groan of appreciation that came from Dante's throat. He peeked over his stomach and erection to see that Dante gripping his own cock tightly. He then approached Nero as he finished pulling the pants off and discarded them. He leaned over and covered Nero's body with his own, closing his mouth over Nero's in a slow but hungry kiss.

Their erections grazed one another's tantalizingly, but Dante, propping himself up on his elbows, broke the kiss and said, "Touch me." The voice sounded a shade more desperate than he might have intended, but the needs of his body were gradually bretraying him. Caution held him back, however, thinking that he had to do all he could to make the kid comfortable with him. He didn't want to traumatize the kid after all, though with regard to his ego, he entertained the thought that taking his girth may prove terrifying for anyone no matter what.

Dante soon learned, however, that as inexperienced as the kid was, he was far from timid. It should have come as no surprise to the elder hunter that he was as gung-ho as ever. Nero felt him up without hesitation, running both of his hands up Dante's biceps, along his back and ass, then feeling the contours of his rock hard chest and abs while glancing his nipples to check for a reaction. He admired Dante's tough skin, loving how it was a living storybook of the hunter's long life of battling foes of the Underworld, and loved that it was all for him to explore.

He then closed his demon hand around the back of Dante's head and pulled him down into a brief kiss. Meanwhile, his human hand found Dante's cock and teased it, swallowing a soft grunt from the older man, then wormed his way down between the arch of Dante's legs, who instinctively opened his groin wider.

"Nero?" Dante questioned, in awe of Nero's initiative. This was the most non-virgin virgin he had ever met. He sucked in sharply when he felt Nero's warm breath on his dick, then the light pressure a tongue running along the underside of his shaft. Nero didn't take him yet, finding contentment in nipping and suckling on Dante's sack. Dante moaned, dropping forward a bit at the sensation, planting his forehead on the bed and lifting his hips higher to make them both more comfortable.

After thoroughly pampering Dante's jewels, Nero finally made his way back up the long shaft and wrapped his lips around the head, sucking gently before pulling more into his mouth. Dante loved how things were progressing, but smirked to himself when he felt Nero begin to hesitate.

"Use a hand," Dante rumbled out. "If you have to," he added, then pressed his face back into the sheets. Nero removed his mouth and wrapped his left hand around Dante's member and pumped him vigorously. Dante started to rock his hips with the handjob, but felt his control slip again once Nero began to use both hand and mouth in tandem.

"That's enough," Dante panted, snapping a hand down to take hold of Nero's hand on his cock. Nero stilled his actions and looked up expectantly. "You got the hang of that pretty fast."

"Helps to have similar equipment," Nero replied, putting himself face to face with Dante again. Dante grinned.

"Ah, stuff you've no doubt practiced with. What do you think about when you masturbate?' Dante asked, simultaneously reaching down to stroke Nero's cock.

Nero's groan couldn't mask his obvious embarrassment at the question, and when he didn't reply immediately, Dante stroked him harder, saying, "Well?"

"It used to be Kyrie, since she had the only decent set of tits around," Nero breathed. "But ever since I met you, I've only been able to shoot my load while imagining you fucking my ass, or my cock in your mouth. Again, I thought it was my demon side corrupting me, and probably part of the reason why I hated you so much. I felt so, uh, ashamed."

Dante suddenly stilled the hand on Nero's cock. "Do you feel ashamed now, Nero?"

Nero, sensing Dante's worry and seriousness about the question, met Dante's eyes and said, "You said this was about honesty, and to be honest, I don't feel ashamed anymore. This isn't a demon's trick, because it feels right to me."

Dante smiled and kissed him softly on his forehead and lips. He then grinned and said, "In that case, it's about time I made those fantasies of yours come true..."

Dante kissed down Nero's neck and across his collarbone, down along the misecting contour of his chest and abs, sampling and tasting his skin like a rich appetizer, prepping his palette before moving onto the main course. He wrapped his arms under Nero's thighs so he could give himself better access. Nero entered his lips, tasting like a mouthful of sweet brine--a taste much unlike a woman's, but one he could easily learn to enjoy.

Nero writhed and moaned at the wetness clamping onto him, and sighed at the sight he thought would remain locked in his imagination. Though he was no small fry himself, Dante went further than Nero could, swallowing his length until Nero felt himself slide past the back of his throat.

"Dante," Nero gasped. "Jesus." It was that moment when Nero conceded that whatever he could do, Dante in all of his experience always did one better, even when it came to smoking pole.

And so Dante went to town with infectious confidence and mind-blowing rhythm, alternating two long drags with three short, adding tongue and vibrations where needed, almost to the point of being too much sensation at once. Nero's hands gripped the bedsheets beside him, the claws of his Devil Bringer outright tearing holes in them. He twitched and writhed, trying to control the urge to pound his cock down Dante's able throat, despite being aided by Dante's armlock around his thighs. He incoherently moaned and swore, expressing the ecstacy his body silently screamed.

He whimpered, then, when Dante slowed his ministrations and removed his mouth to place a hand on Nero's impossibly swollen, wet shaft. Nero, not remembering when he had shut his eyes, opened them and looked down questioningly. "Dan-?"

"Do you trust me, Nero?" Dante asked pointedly.

"Uh," Nero hesitated. "Why would you ask?"

As Nero responded, Dante licked one of his fingers and coated it with saliva. Then, without immediately answering him, pressed the tip to Nero's anus an applied a little pressure as warning.

"Oh good fucking god, Dante," Nero then said. Dante furrowed his brow in extreme puzzlement, not expecting to hear that preamble. Nero continued, "Stop treating me like a china doll pussy virgin and fuck me already."

Dante smiled brightly, happy to be reminded of why he fell in love with the brash punk--such a entertainingly insolent mouth to go with that wild attitude.

"Kid, if I fucked you right now, you'd beg me to kill you. So you're gonna have to trust me when I say this: you're gonna need all the preparation you can get."

"Is it that big of a deal?"

"Is my cock that big of a deal? You couldn't even swallow half of it, virgin."

The words flew out of Dante's mouth as a matter of ego, but worried that he might inadvertantly scare him. It worried him when Nero stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "I trust you."

"Hold that thought," Dante said. He was suddenly up and out of the room, and Nero blinked at the sudden abandonment.

After a moment, Nero heard, "I knew there was an upside to living with girls," as Dante entered the room carrying a bottle of unknown substance.

"Magic potion?" Nero guessed.

"Wouldn't surprise me if there were some in that bathroom cabinet," Dante said, applying some of the viscous liquid from the bottle to his hands. "But this is just scented oil. Close enough though for our purposes."

He smothered all of his digits as well as Nero's ass with the oil. He then lifted himself up to cover Nero with his body and kiss him while one of his fingers began to probe his anus. Even with the oil, the act proved more uncomfortable than Nero had anticipated, and he gripped Dante's shoulders painfully.

"See?" Dante whispered against his lips. He then went back down to Nero's cock and closed his mouth over it again, stimulating it while he worked the finger to the second, then third knuckle.

"You alright?" Dante asked, noticing that Nero's legs had begun to quiver.

"Yeah," was his response.

Dante went on, sticking another oil-slicked digit into Nero's tight recess, gently working his muscles apart. "Relax," Dante said, muffled a bit by Nero's member in his mouth. His goal was to at least spare Nero from as much misery as possible, but as a secondary goal, he searched for Nero's g-spot, the spot that would make this all worth it for the punk. He applied a third finger, hoping it would help.

Nero, meanwhile, grunted and hissed sharply while enduring the expansion of said recess, barely feeling Dante's mouth over him, and he briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into. He was beginning to feel slightly awkward.

Suddenly, the tension in him broke when Dante massaged something inside him. He gasped, and reflexively bucked into Dante's mouth. The elder man pulled his lips from him, saying, "There we go."

Nero didn't even want to know how Dante knew stuff like this. He didn't care. "Dante, please," he said, moving his hips to try and hit that spot again.

Dante looked up, and the utter, abject need written across the younger man's face reignited his feral desire.

"Dante, now," Nero said. Dante was galvanized by his words, and Dante moved back up Nero's body to kiss him while spreading Nero's legs wider apart. Dante sat on his thighs between them, coating his cock with a generous amount of oil, then leaned over and positioned himself at Nero's entrance. Without a word between them, now able to communicate now with body language only, Dante pushed forward.

Dante watched as his lover's face contorted in agony. He had barely gotten the head of his cock in and he was already feeling sorry. But it was too late--his sympathy was fast losing to the needs of his body, especially when every inch he gained of the tight heat that was both preventing and pulling him in. The sensation was heavenly, and his sadistic side sparked an impulse to thrust all the way in and toe the line between rough and rape.

Nero endured the burning where Dante was penetrating him, and though it dulled everytime Dante thought to hesitate, it never quite abated. Nonetheless, Nero looked up at Dante and gripped his shoulders tight, feeling nothing but total security and anticipation.

"Dante, it's okay. Don't hold back," Nero sighed, finding presence of mind to kiss Dante's cheek and nibble his earlobe.

"If you insist," Dante said, gripping Nero's legs and forcing himself to the hilt. He moaned at the completion, and his eyes rolled back--he was so tight, and Dante was officially lost in the battle of compassion to his own carnal satisfaction. His waning self-control even caused him to find Nero's cry of pain extremely erotic.

"Oh, fuck!" Nero said. He he was biting through his bottom lip and digging his nails into Dante's shoulders and back. Dante watched Nero's agony etch itself across his beautiful features, with blood painting his lips a deep scarlet and set off the glassy azure glow that dared to peek through his shallow tears.

Dante angled them so he could thrust downwards and let gravity help his penetrative power. He started a merciless rhythm, pounding savagely into Nero who, despite his surprise at being caught in such the sudden tempest, was thrilled by Dante's impatience. His excitement had yet to bubble to the surface, for Dante tore through his ass with excruciating ruthlessness, and it forced Nero to stifle his cries by biting down harder on his lips. He gagged a little as blood dripped to the back of his throat. Dante felt his own blood run down his back where Nero's claws embedded themselves deeper, drawing enough to run down his right bicep and smear the sheets.

"Yeah, you thought you could handle this, huh? Thought this prick was no big deal?" Dante growled. He captured Nero's mouth, and he drank in the metallic taste, the attacks of sensation almost too much to bear. Without affecting his pace too severely, Dante reangled himself to strike where he thought he found Nero's prostate. After some attempts, Dante finally got Nero to moan--a moan of overriding pleasure.

"D-da-!" Nero moaned into Dante's mouth. Nero tensed as Dante struck him there again and again like harp strings, his melody of exquisite torture transitioning subtly into its final movement. Dante grabbed a hold of Nero's bounding cock and pumped it with blazing speed and power to match his own violent thrusting, making sure that the kid's first fuck would be one he'd never forget.

But he couldn't hold on. Nero was hotter, tighter, and more natural than any woman he'd ever lain with. In addition, he made the most erotic sounds: muted but incessant groans and barely coherent expletives that rumbled from deep inside him, sounds that were truly real and uncorrupted by imagination or hearsay. Compounded by Nero's potent, unique musk--a peculiar mix of ocean air and honey--Dante vowed to not only be Nero's first, but his only.

"Ah, fuck!" Dante jerked as his orgasm exploded from him, humping erratically and spilling untold amounts of his juices into Nero's accepting body. In his mindless state of bliss he almost stopped stroking Nero.

Nero was not far behind, however. Watching Dante's expression as he came made his breath catch, his throat obstructed by the virtual seizure his own forceful orgasm brought on. He bucked into Dante's withering penis, ropes of his cum splattering across his abdomen.

Dante smiled, hazy with pleasure, but beyond what he cared to form into a sentence at the moment. He pulled out of Nero, kissing him languidly as he did so. "I'll be right back," Dante soon said, slipping out of Nero and out of bed. Nero nodded, but despite the assurance, Dante could tell Nero was hiding some emotional distress. "I promise," he added, with a peck on the lips.

Nero knew he was being irrational, yet his heart quickened in seeing Dante move out of sight so soon after their lovemaking. He didn't feel like moving, either--he grew more acutely aware of the drying fluids and soreness he was immersed in, like he had just landed on a pile of eggs, and was now swimming in the yolks. Each passing second inflated his insecurities until he then hear water running and ceramic clinking.

He considered it a lesson in trust when Dante returned with a bowl of water and a washcloth. The elder man set them aside and gingerly removed the sex-christened sheets to reveal the remains of all that Dante had ravaged. Dante sat beside him on the bed and dampened the cloth , then washed Nero with the most intimate blots and strokes, gently wiping away every disgusting, wonderful trace of their love. Displeased to be treated like a baby, Nero nonetheless appreciated that Dante himself would perform the humble task without complaint or reservation.

When Dante finished and placed the cloth and bowl to the side, Nero asked, "You gonna do this for me every time?"

"Hell no," Dante said quickly. He then added playfully, "You can clean me up sometimes instead."

Nero glowered and said, "Fat fucking chance."

Dante smiled. He would never get sick of this kid.


	7. Fountain of Youth

Dante practically bounded down the stairs, clad in nothing but a pair of crumpled jeans, feeling younger than he had in years. He wouldn't have been surprised if he looked younger, either. He knew Nero's age was one of his strangely endearing qualities, but the fact that one night of sex with him was able to restore Dante's vigor so much made the elder hunter believe Nero was a veritable fountain of youth.

On top of that, not moments ago, he had awoken beside the slumbering form of said fountain himself who, while soaked in the pale morning light, glowed like a wingless angel in his sheets. Nero's serene countenance belied his cursed blood, as well as the forsaken innocence Dante had stripped from him. The sight had been startling, and it took Dante's breath away.

Dante's awe was inexplicably replaced by a knot in his gut. He couldn't understand what was unsettling, but the feeling stopped him when he thought about returning to sleep beside the magnificent creature. Though he had rightfully claimed him, Dante simply refused to touch Nero while he looked so beautiful.

So there he was at the bottom of the steps. He stretched and scratched his ass, preparing to make his way to the kitchen when a piece of paper on the desk caught his eye. Dante moved to inspect it, and from a distance instantly figured it was from Trish. The spotted pink ink scrawled in the shape of her handwriting across it gave her away, as well as the imprint of pursed lips stamped on it. Dante snatched it and read:

Out for the day. You boys stay out of trouble. (**smootch mark**)

Trish & Lady

P.S. You owe me 20 for the lavendar oil. I'm sure it was worth it. - Lady

"Bullshit that crap was 20 dollars," Dante growled and muttered unintelligible curses about extortion and money grubbing. He then paused to think for a moment. "So that was lavendar?"

* * *

It had not been long since Dante left the bed when Nero began to break from his slumber. He had sensed the movement, and then the warmth beside him fade. The dense odor of Dante himself and their lovemaking, raw and pure, was all that lingered, and its comfort convinced him to snooze a little longer. He didn't stir, interested in listening to Dante navigate his room with light footsteps. The footsteps stopped abruptly, and for a moment, Nero thought he felt Dante's eyes on him. He hoped that Dante would return to his side. Instead, he heard the click of buttons and a zipper before hearing Dante exit and the door close.

No longer interested in listening to a silent room, Nero opted to rise from bed after all. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his face with both human and demon palms, massaging wakefulness into his eyes. He also became aware that he still felt a faint stickiness about his abdomen, and the fact hit him like a ton of bricks: he had just slept with Dante. Not that he doubted it in the first place, but if he could show himself now to the Nero back when he distrusted Dante's every fiber, he would probably kill himself. Especially considering how damn pleased he felt about it.

But meeting Dante had been so good for him, he realized. He would not have matured as he had if not for the elder hunter keeping his head cool and his desires true, both during and after the Fortuna incident. And now that Dante had even showed him how to properly make love, he felt a sobering distance between reality and good judgement. He was wiser.

A knot formed in his belly when he realized that he wanted to stay. Stay with Dante, and stay indefinitely. A flood of worry entered his mind. What did Dante even think of last night? Nero was struck by the fact that last night was merely an answer to Nero's question about demonic influence, and not an answer on where to go from there.

"Kyrie," Nero said aloud. "Fuck." Where would he even begin with Kyrie?

He could not possibly stay. Fortuna still needed his help, too. Now he wasn't sure what to say to Dante, either.

He opted to avoid reality, at least until he could get some toast and coffee in his belly. He hastily made himself decent and made his way downstairs.

* * *

"So that was lavendar?"

"Dante?" The familiar voice was faint, almost ghosting past Dante's ears. Dante turned to see Nero paused halfway down the steps. He swallowed hard, dropping the note and instantly forgetting about his 20 debt. His mind reeled at Nero who had only bothered to apply his boxers before trudging groggily down the steps. Dante could not look away even if the proprietary were burst into flames right then and there.

"Morning," Dante greeted. He suddenly noticed that he was at the foot of the stairs, not sure when his feet had acquired a mind of their own. The new vantage point, however, provided him with an angle for his eyes to properly ravage much of Nero's exposed, lithe muscles tucked away under his unblemished human skin. Even the Devil Bringer, with its rusty red and twisted hide, decorated Nero beautifully like a bejeweled royal gauntlet.

The more Dante oggled, however, the faster his desire to actually ravage Nero rocketed its way to the top of Dante's immediate to-do list.

"You fucking perv," Nero remarked, twisting his lips into a sly smirk. Dante knew his desire was written all over his face, but he could have cared less at the moment. His growing erection felt like it was about to tear right through his denim.

"I'm not the one walking around in my shorts asking to get raped," Dante said, stalking up the steps.

"I'll just ask for breakfast, thank you."

"Of the Portuguese kind?"

Nero quirked a brow, not at all familiar with the phrase. However, Dante's tone unsettled Nero when he considered how serious Dante might be about the whole rape thing. "Dante..." he warned when the elder hunter reached the step below him.

In response, Dante took a final step, planting his feet on either side of Nero's while gently wrapping his arms around the boy. He then kissed Nero deeply, instigating a slow, tantalizing exploration of Nero's mouth intending to make the tension in Nero's body disappear. Despite that intent, Dante nonetheless felt his heart inflate and the blood in his head boil at the feel and taste of Nero's soft mouth. He was drinking himself into a stupor, and he couldn't believe he could feel that way from just a kiss. When Nero sighed into the kiss so sweetly, it was all Dante could do to tear his mouth away.

"Morning, by the way," Dante rasped, surprised at the way he sounded. His restraint was faltering, and he moved to attack the crux of Nero's neck. He felt Nero's fingers clamp onto his biceps, taking it as a signal that he was getting into it. Dante smiled against Nero's skin and said, "I'll have my breakfast first if you don't mind."

He took a step back and down, then descended Nero's torso.

"Dante!" Nero hissed, jerking involuntarily once he registered Dante's destination. He felt Dante's breath on his awakening need through the slit of his boxers, which Dante peeled apart and exposed him to the world.

"So delicious," Dante remarked, latching his lips to Nero's sac. Coherent thought vanished in Nero's mind in order to focus on the delicate attention Dante was offering his balls, and choking down the urge to whimper in delight.

He jerked again when Dante closed a hand around Nero's now rock hard member, deep pink and swollen, having been bathed in Dante's moist, hot breath.

"Dante," he murmured, the sweet voice earning a sigh from the elder hunter, who gently ran his tongue on the underside of Nero's member before closing his lips around the head. Nero's head fell backwards and he moaned loudly.

Dante, too, was having trouble concentrating. Despite his abounding experience in matters concerning sex, he had never believed that giving could be as enjoyable as receiving. He thought he would burst hearing Nero's wanton sighs and bellows of approval. He moved a hand to clumsily unzip himself and free his straining erection for relief, not that it helped much. He then moved the hand on Nero's cock to wrap around Nero's hips to steady and pull him further into his mouth so that he could blow him in earnest. He took him far into his mouth and throat, practically swallowing Nero's cock with every bob.

"Oh my fuck-" Nero moaned, his legs quivering. He was losing his mind, letting himself lightly thrust into Dante's evidently capable mouth. "Dante, I can't-" he said, placing his human hand on Dante's shoulder, knowing he would come in seconds if Dante picked up the tempo.

Dante came to full stop and breathed, "Can't what?"

"I'll come," Nero said. The innocent way he said it made Dante's cock twitch. He smiled up at Nero.

"No shit," Dante replied, resuming his focus on the task he'd started. He gluped down Nero's length once more, this time in a sprint to the finish line, causing Nero to grab Dante's hair and buck into the wet warmth convulsing around him. Nero wasn't sure if he could remain conscious. He looked down and watched his dick slide in and out, watched the shaft gleam in the harsh artificial light, and watched Dante take him with bliss.

He moaned when his dick finally erupted. The elder stilled his mouth at the tip and drank him, using his hand to milk the rest out of Nero's quaking balls.

Nero let out the breath he had held for the duration of his orgasm. Dante simultaneously straightened on his feet, using an arm to wipe his lips of Nero's spunk that had leaked out. He pulled Nero to him and devoured him in a kiss, and the force of Dante and taste of himself bringing Nero out of his blissful haze.

In an instant Dante gripped Nero roughly and spun him around, forcing the younger man to lean forward and grip the steps with both hands. Dante leaned his own torso over him and plunged his tongue into Nero's ear, teasing and moistening its folds. Nero's breath caught under the ambush, finding it difficult to utter protest when Dante's hands brushed against his ass and cock through the fabric of his undergarments. Nero's hardness had barely left him after his monumental orgasm, but refused to acknowledge to himself that he was turned on by Dante's blatant assertion of dominance. In truth, he had never been wanted like this before, and he didn't want it to stop.

"You wouldn't fuck me on the staircase," Nero declared, despite his excitement.

"Wanna bet?" Dante said while removing his tongue from Nero's ear to nip at Nero's spine. His hands were now burrowing past the waistband of Nero's boxers and running over the hard muscles of his buttocks and thighs.

"We should stop, Lady and Trish will throw us out on our asses if they come down and see us-ah," Nero responded, jerking at Dante's unreserved invasion of his shorts.

"No they wouldn't. They gave us the house for the day," Dante said. "Christ," he continued. "You're still hard as a motherfucker. You're a little slut underneath that stuck up exterior, aren't you?" He then dug his fingers into the fabric and ripped off Nero's boxers down to his knees, hard enough to burn the skin.

"What?" Nero was all he could choke out before Dante's weight pinned him to the stairs. He tried to prop himself up better with his arms, but he could not keep his face from brushing against the unpolished wood of the ascending steps before him. The perception of his predicament crossed into surreality when he heard the rustling Dante's jeans coming off.

"Please, Dante," Nero hissed. "We shouldn't...!"

Dante barely heard him, but lifted to fully free himself of the restrictive denim. Nero twisted his neck to see what Dante was doing, but regretted it when he saw a huge gob of saliva launch from Dante's lips, followed by the disgusting _splat_ onto his straining dick. Dante smeared it around a bit before leaning onto Nero again and aiming the tip at Nero's entrance.

"No! We can't!"

Dante felt a rush hit him when he heard that meek protest. Despite having had the honor of popping Nero's cherry, here the boy was acting like a blushing virgin again. It was too ridiculously kinky to be true, and even that doubt failed to douse his reaction. The sound of it drove Dante positively wild. He grunted, his nostrils flaring like a bull, and drove his pole hard into Nero's hot recess.

"Oh, God!" Nero yelped, taking what was not much better than dry penetration. Dante humped him hard and relentlessly, pounding through Nero's tight, unyielding sphincter until he felt his balls brush against Nero's ass.

"Dahnnn-, not so deep!" Nero begged. His hands gripped the step even tighter, the wood under his Devil Bringer crumbling like a graham cracker.

_Well, too fucking bad_, is what Dante wanted to say. Nero's ass was pure velvet, and it gripped Dante's blood-bloated need like a burning glove. Nonetheless Dante slowed down some, and figured he would be forgiven for his lustful zeal if he were to reach down and around to help Nero enjoy it too, but was stunned to find that Nero still had barely softened at all.

"Goddamn, you _are_ a slut," Dante said. "You fucking love it."

"Yes, yes," Nero moaned when Dante touched him, as if confirming the charge. The pain was fading more rapidly than it had the night before, and his pulsing cock felt ready to explode again. "Please, don't fucking stop! Give it to me."

Dante gladly obliged, removing his hand from Nero's dick so that he could grab his hips and hammer into him full force. He plunged his entire length over and over again into Nero's rippling intestines hard enough to transfer through Nero and make the bannister tremble.

"Ah, Dante, I'll come! I'll come!" Nero shouted over the slaps of flesh. He was in the throes of passion, but Dante heard it as if he were embarrassed again, making their rutting seem like a forbidden carnal sin. Thus the words made Dante relinquish any restraint he was holding onto. He groaned and grunted,leaning over Nero to reach out and steady himself as he fucked Nero in a blur of furious humping. He reached down to fist Nero's dick again, trying to time it with his rhythm but giving up, knowing it was too late for Nero to appreciate. Instead he pumped him as hard as he could, just short of tearing the damn thing off.

Nero found it impossible to take more than a minute of such violent stimulation, and shuddered intensely when his orgasm hit him like a truck. He cried out, humping Dante's fist erratically as his seed cascaded from his twitching member and coating the steps beneath him. Feeling Nero's hot fluids coat his hand, Dante emitted a series of growls and grunts, firing himself into Nero's colon with so much cum that the leaking aftermath also dripped over their thighs and down to the steps below.

"Oh, Jesus," Dante muttered, being the first to speak. Nero was still panting hard, having brought his demon arm across the step in front of his face to lean on. Nero wanted to fall asleep again. He felt Dante remove himself from his ass with a lovely slorp and he sighed, again feeling his heart swell after having been taken so thoroughly. His feelings made him suspect he might be a slut, but he couldn't imagine feeling the same way with anyone besides Dante.

Nero's train of thought was interrupted when he felt something that nearly made him jump out of his skin: a firm wetness probing at his raw-fucked ass.

"Relax," Dante said. Nero did no such thing, realizing that Dante was kissing and licking away the damage with his _tongue_, an act which both touched and disgusted him at the same time.

"It's okay," Nero said hastily, his legs coming unlocked. He pulled up his boxers and turned around, saying "I'll just grab a shower, if you don't mind."

Dante smiled up at him and said, "Sure. Go get yourself cleaned up, kid. And you wanted breakfast, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Nero said, bashful over having forgotten so easily. Dante winked at him, then turned to descend the stairs, picking up his discarded jeans along the way. Despite himself, Nero grinned.

Dante went to the kitchen, finding a fresh dishrag to wipe the sex off himself before putting on a pot of coffee. Next, he grabbed the cleanest frying pan and the newest carton of eggs he could find. He decided to throw in some toaster waffles, too, since it seemed like a special occasion. An occasion it certainly was, Dante thought. While everything was cooking, he finally had the chance to think about last night and this morning possibly being the best sex he had ever had. Granted, it had been the most recent he'd enjoyed in weeks, which was a while by his standards. He wondered if Nero would wring his balls dry like that everytime, which led him to the concern that had been in his mind since he had awoken: he wanted Nero to stay.

And not just for the sex, Dante knew. Dante wanted Nero around because he liked having Nero around. Up until last night, Dante was sure the weight of his years had buried what he had felt like as a young man: virile; endlessly energetic; invincible. A man with his age and experience shouldn't be acting like a 15-year-old boy who just realized his first crush, yet Nero was unscrewing all of his bolts and rearranging his priorities like no other.

Additionally, Dante had kept a deep secret. He knew as he got older that he would have to pass on the head of the business to someone, and ever since he had met the brash, insolent boy, and had been convinced of his virtuous heart and ability, that there could be no one else for the responsibility but Nero. He originally had calculated for any day now to be when it was time to hang up his guns and call it quits. However, since Dante had been subject to mysterious effects of Nero's familiar personality and his impossibly tight ass, Dante thought that with Nero around, he might not ever have to retire.

The toaster had spat out the waffles, but the fried eggs still crackled in pan. Dante inhaled the soothing scent of coffee that easily dominated all other odors in the kitchen. His ears also caught the sound of water rushing in the bathroom upstairs, and sighed when he thought of Nero's beautiful form bathing happily under steaming water.

As a result, he barely heard the phone ring. He had blocked out the first full ring, and vaguely registered the second. Realizing that it was not a figment, he scrambled to plate the eggs and turn off the stove.

He had not bothered reapplying his jeans yet, and so he dashed out to the desk in the nude and snatched up the receiver at the fourth ring.

"ThankyouforcallingDevilMayCryyourfriendlyneighborhooddemonslayersatyourservicethisisDantehowmayIhelpyou?" Dante recited with one breath into the receiver.

"Yes, hello? Is this Dante?" the voice on the other end asked meekly.

"That's what I said," Dante replied.

"Um, hello, this is Kyrie"

Kyrie...Kyrie...where had Dante heard that name before?

"I apologize for not having met you properly in Fortuna, and I hope you don't mind me having found your number."

'Oh yeah, Kyrie! That cherub-looking sweetheart Nero is into--was into,' Dante thought, or rather, hoped. He suddenly felt like hanging up, but then figured that she would just call back.

"Don't sweat a thing. What can I do for you, babe?" Dante asked. He turned his head to listen and see if the shower was still running.

"Have you seen or heard from Nero? He left Fortuna a few days ago, and he told me it was to find you. He said he would call, but I got a bad feeling last night and I'm worried about him."

"Nero, you say?" Dante said. He was caught in a vice, his good conscience proding him to tell the truth, but his bad conscience was trying to put lies in his mouth.

"Yes. I'm willing to hire you to look for him if you haven't any information."

Yep, Nero had himself a wonderful girl, if a little pushy. Granted, he would be too in her place. Now that she was talking dollars and cents, so to speak, his bad side wormed its way out.

"I'm glad you called, because I'd be happy to go look for him for you, miss. Business has been a little slow these days so I can definitely spare the time and help you out. Hopefully, he's just fine."

"Thank you so much, Dante. You're his friend, so I know you'll do your best."

Dante almost blushed. "That I will, you can count on it," he said.

"I'll pay you when you bring him back."

They exchanged goodbyes, and Dante replaced the receiver. It was then that he fully regretted what he had just done. He got himself into a world of shit, and, unlike battling demons, he couldn't just kill it all away.

He stewed in his anxiety until he heard Nero's footsteps approaching the stairs. He had not noticed when the shower had stopped. Nor had he remembered his state of undress. In a moment of embarrassment and panic, he ran to the kitchen. He was barely through the door when he stopped to lean against the jamb. He rubbed his face, and with an exasperated sigh, he realized that he, the Legendary Devil Hunter, was hiding himself from Nero.


	8. Condemnation

**A/N:** First of all, **THANK YOU SO much** for the reviews. Gods, they are marvelous for a writer's motivation. They are what convinced me to keep this story going in the first place.

I'm happy that the story is going in a good direction for most of you. I'm not 100 sure how this story will progress, but I'll try to keep it interesting. Or at the very least, I'll keep it smutty. Bwa ha! What can I say, I love this pairing!

That being said, this is a rather short, non-smexy installment. I wanted to get something out before I go out of town. :-( I won't be gone long! Hope it tides everyone over.

Thanks again to you readers and fellow DxN fans for the interest. Now I'll shut up so we can get on with it. XD

* * *

Nero stepped into the shower. He was happy to enjoy the brief bit of solitude and privacy, for it was an opportunity to relax his troubled mind--the running water drowned out the rest of the world and gave him peace. He sighed as the hot water began to massage his skin. The water trickled down his body and through every fold. He winced when reached his cock-battered ass. He sighed again, leaning over to rest his forehead against his Devil Bringer, and glanced down to watch a few light pink rivulets spill down his legs and spiral down the drain. When the sting subsided, he washed the tender region of its abuse, and rinsed his saliva-coated prick. Everything disappeared down the drain, except the memories.

Nero considered how life can change so quickly. Namely how yesterday morning, Nero wouldn't have believed that'd he'd have a cock in his ass by that evening. And again this very morning. And Dante's cock, for that matter. And that he would undeniably enjoy it as much as he did.

He thought about his desire to stay at Devil May Cry. Or rather, to stay with Dante. Not just for the sex--which he was still getting used to--but because of Dante himself. Sex hadn't completely resolved Nero's feelings for the elder hunter, and he sensed there was still a long way to go. He was still absolutely desperate for the knowledge, experience, and guidance Dante offered. But even more importantly now, Nero yearned for a way to express himself in a way he thought only reserved for Kyrie.

Kyrie. He had betrayed her so dearly, and what had he gained? He had been a virgin, but he hadn't been naive enough to assume Dante loved him, or even wanted him to stick around save for the occasional knob-polishing.

His jaw clenched, and he nearly wept. He wanted to go back to Fortuna immediately. He very badly wanted to see Kyrie again, and to beg her forgiveness for being a victim of his foolishness and perpetual insecurity. He knew she would, even though he had forgotten to call. He knew she would be worried. He smiled, missing how uncomplicated things were with her.

With his decision made, he made his way back to Dante's room to change. For lack of anything else, Nero stole a shirt of Dante's to wear until he got around to collecting his things. He threw on an ash-colored tee, and as he pulled it over his head, the scent of Dante's musk invaded his nostrils. The shirt was deeply infused with it, and despite himself, Nero paused to relish in the heady odor.

The scent of coffee, however, lured him out and down the stairs. Seeing no sign of Dante in the common area, he headed to the kitchen. The door was open, and he knocked on the jamb.

"Dante?" he asked as he knocked. He entered and found Dante pouring a cup of fresh brew.

"How do you like your go juice?" Dante asked. "Because all we got is black."

Nero smiled. "Black works," he answered. Dante turned to hand him the cup, but paused when his eyes met Nero, who happened to be wearing one of his favorite shirts.

"Raiding my wardrobe now, are you?" Dante said, quirking a brow and bringing his own mug of joe to his lips.

"You thought I'd raid Trish's?"

Dante snorted a little into his coffee, smiling.

"That for me?" Nero asked, putting his mug down and pointing to the plate of eggs and waffle next to Dante on the counter opposite him. Dante twisted to pass the plate and fork to him.

"Not my best, but I haven't made eggs in a while," Dante said.

"You aren't going to eat?" Nero asked while digging in regardless.

"Not this morning," Dante said.

Nero shrugged, resuming his focus on the meal. Dante watched him, unable to dismiss how endearing he looked while he ate his food and wore his shirt, a shirt that appeared to be about a size too big, but was still elastic enough to hug his figure. He was content to simply sip his coffee and watch. His stomach turned, however, as the silence grew heavy between them. He was sickened with the fear that, because of his childishness, he might never get to have the same pleasure again.

Nero too, felt uneasy, especially under what he felt to be Dante's scrutinizing stare. He tried to zone him out, bringing the plate high before his eyes and pretending to be enjoying Dante's slightly rubbery eggs and waffle with gusto. The awkward silence lasted until Nero polished his plate.

In a swift motion, Nero suddenly put the empty plate down and looked up at Dante. Dante indeed scrutinized him for certain, detecting a hint of apprehension in the younger man's eyes. "What? You clog the toilet up there or something?" Dante asked.

"Dante, I have to go back." Nero said definitively. "Today."

"Why?" Dante asked--not like a curious or interested 'why,' but more like a 'why are you doing this to me?'

"Why not?"

"Because actually," Dante began, thinking for a beat before continuing, "I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in staying to help out with the business. For at least a couple of more days. I could use it."

"What business?" Nero replied. "You haven't had a call for a job since I've been here."

Dante darted his eyes from Nero to his coffee, from which he took another sip. "Yeah, well," Dante said, clearing his throat. "You never know."

Nero rolled his eyes. "Nice try, but I'm going back to Fortuna, and to Kyrie."

"So you got your fucking answer, and now you're just gonna bounce and act like the last night and this morning never happened? Back to your little girlfriend and live merrily ever after?" Dante roared, slamming down his mug.

"N-not exactly," Nero started. The explosion of volume and anger terrified Nero like no demon ever had, and now the very source was approaching him, looking as though he would belch fire. Dante trapped him against the door jamb, but not before Nero brought his Devil Bringer up and place it between them as a precaution.

"Yeah, _exactly_," Dante corrected bitterly. "You can't bullshit me, kid."

"You mean like you just tried to do?" Nero spat back, his terror giving way to match Dante's present ire. His Devil Bringer flared. "There's no fucking way I'm staying with a hormonal, shit-peddling maniac like you"  
Dante's face fell, and all traces of his fury faded in an instant. "Is that what you think I am?" he asked, taking a step back. The sight made Nero very much regret his words, yet took a moment to study Dante's forlorn countenance. To his eyes, it was no act.

"No," Nero finally said. "I don't."

Dante would have been kidding himself if he said he was not relieved, but his face remained solemn. It was not the issue on which he wanted Nero to relent.

"Seriously," Dante pushed again. "Stay a few days. After the week is up, you can do whatever the fuck you'd like and I swear I won't bitch. Or tell," he added, a mischevious smirk appearing on his face.

Nero let out a long sigh. He then said, "I have to at least call Kyrie."

"Actually," Dante said, very unwilling to let that happen. "She called while you were in the shower."

"Dante!" Nero roared, almost as spontaneously as Dante had moments before. "Why didn't you fucking tell me!"

Nero stormed out of the kitchen, his demon arm glowing white hot. He made a direct line to the phone on Dante's desk, and had reached out to the receiver when Dante's grip on his arm yanked him back.

"You are a lying bastard. Now get your hands off me if you don't want to see your shop in fucking pieces," Nero spat.

"Now who's acting like a maniac?" Dante said cooly. His grip tightened on Nero's arm. "Why don't you cool off, then I'll tell you what she asked me to tell you."

Nero's nostrils flared and he repeated, "Asked _you?_"

"That's right, now have yourself a seat, kid."

Nero settled a little, but opted to lean against the desk. "Fair enough," Dante continued, seeing Nero relax at least. "As a I said, she called while you were showering, to ask if you were here. I told her you were, and that you were fine but couldn't come to the phone. She then asked I had helped you at all with your "problem," and since I'm a swell guy who would never spill the beans on your infidelity, I made up some bullshit about how we still needed a few days to make sure nothing was wrong."

As Dante spoke, Nero's head nodded, believing every word. His face fell further at the word "infidelity," which he had never thought to call it until then.

"So in other words, she's not expecting you for a while anyway, kid. She hopes you'll figure it out," Dante finished. "She's a good girl. I'm sorry you had to get mixed up with me."

"You are?" Nero asked, his eyes darting up to Dante's.

"Honestly?" Dante began, moving to close the distance between them. "Not really," he whispered, sending a shiver down Nero's spine. Nero was coming under his spell, and he claimed Nero's lips as a final incantation.

Nero pushed him back, however, to say "I don't want to hurt Kyrie. I never wanted to."

"I know, kid," Dante reassured, suddenly having the urge to pull him into an embrace. He did so, putting his hands on Nero's back to encourage him. "Like I said, when the week's up, you can go back to her and I won't complain. I'll even take you back myself."

At that, Nero sighed and leaned forward from the desk, resting his head on Dante's shoulder.

Dante embraced him, having no earthly idea what would happen in those few days. He knew it was a bad compromise the moment it had precipitated from his lips in the kitchen. He had arranged a countdown to irrevoccable disaster in exchange for a few days with Nero. Dante wasn't sure how much more of an idiot he could be.

The die had been cast, however. Dante realized this, and with Nero in his arms that very moment, and he was not going to let his precious time go to waste. With a gentle hand he guided Nero's lips back to his own, and he tasted everything between Nero's lips. As they kissed, Dante pushed Nero backward and down across the desk, sweeping the phone off of the top as well.

Nero broke the kiss and said, "Not here." Glancing at the phone Dante had pushed off, he added, "What about jobs?"

"Great thing, kid. When you own your own business, you can take days off whenever the hell you want. Just lettin' you know."

He then hoisted Nero over his shoulder and hauled him upstairs to make love. For the first time, they would savor the tender agony of their union.

* * *

**AN: **For the record, I'm not a huge fan of Kyrie, either. I couldn't bring myself to care about her in the game, and since unlocking the secret cutscene, I've let her get pwned in the mini-game every time. XD But despite that bias, I'm going to give her a fair representation in this fic if I can help it.

* * *


	9. Top

**A/N:** Yes, another chapter! You could call this filler, however--not too much storywise, but just a good ol' fashioned fanfic-style M-rated romp. I thought that would be okay for now while I work a little harder on the developments I have in mind.

Enjoy!

* * *

Dante had finished twice inside Nero, and was going for a third. Nero wasn't positive how long they had been going at it on Dante's rickety bed, but he wondered if they wouldn't be doing nothing else but fuck for the rest of the day. He had only come once, and he wanted to let go again, but the abuse his ass had been suffering was starting to catch up to him, and the pleasure point Dante strummed so well had a less potent effect while his inner walls were rubbed raw. Nero's subdued reactions revealed his distress to Dante, who was already becoming attuned to Nero's body language.

Dante pulled out of Nero and said, "Top."

Momentarily confused, both by the sudden move and by the vague word. While still on hands and knees, Nero twisted around and let his quirked brow ask for clarification. Dante moved to grab the leftover jar of oil he had left on the bedside and toss it to him.

"I want you in my ass, Nero. Fuck me."

Still processing the command, Nero stood on his knees and held the jar while Dante manuvered in front of Nero so he could rest his elbows on the pillow and offer himself up.

"Isn't this the ladies'?" Nero asked.

"It's already bought and paid for, kid, so use it. Fucking lavendar shit," Dante grumbled.

"Oh, so that's lavendar?"

"Yeah. Now let's go."

Nero smiled, putting down the jar down. "Wait a minute. You're the one who's offering to be bitch now, and you're telling me what to do? Pardon me then while I tell you to hold your damned horses," he said, feeling a surge of confidence over being given a chance at dominance. He simultaneously ran both of his hands over Dante's vulnerable, impeccably sculpted back and ass.

Dante gave a huff of laughter and grinned. "So what do you have in mind, kid?" He was confident that he could call the game off at any point, but decided that playing along might prove to be interesting.

Or torture. Dante howled in surprise when a searing pain cracked across his ass. "What the fuck jumping Jesus!" He whipped around to see the intimidating projection of Devil Bringer planted right where the pain had originated. "You cheap bastard," Dante said, seriously reconsidering letting Nero take the reins. No sooner had the words escaped from his mouth, however, when Nero flexed his wrist and dug the nails in. Though the talons felt as if they actually punctured him deep, they did not draw blood. Dante barely noticed as he clenched his teeth and growled, both at the pain as well as the toothy grin plastered on Nero's face.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Nero asked cheekily, still gripping Dante with his Devil Bringer. "While I'm fucking you, you will _not_ call me 'kid,' or anything else I happen to disapprove of."

"Fuck you, _kid_," Dante replied, thinking that it hadn't hurt _that_ bad.

He was wrong. Nero brought his demon arm down hard on his other asscheek and dug the projection's claws in. Dante yelped and shut his eyes. "Kid, you're killing me," he almost whined. Indeed, he felt himself wilt with each blow. He involuntarily winced when he realized he had let 'kid' slip out again, but was surprised when he felt nothing. Instead, he felt the claws leave his ass, and he heard the jar lid coming off. He listened as Nero slathered on the liquid with sloppy noises.

He then felt Nero lean over him, and in his ear said, "You will call me **'Nero.'**"

With that, Nero clamped his hands on Dante's hips and slammed him back onto his cock, jamming himself in to the hilt in one go.

"Oh _fuck_," Dante forced through his teeth. He realized he possessed no experience to reference for what being on bottom would feel like, but then again, Nero was his first male lover, and the only one he ever dreamed of giving anal access to. But now he knew. Dante found it ironic that it was Nero, the former virgin himself, taking away the last virgin part of himself he had left, and he gave it away without regret. As Nero forced himself into his tight, unprepared hole, he also empathized what Nero endured--a stabbing of a dull, hot blade. Dante could hardly consider much else, for he was clenching involuntarily on Nero's invading length.

"Relax," Nero said. From anyone else Dante would have found it patronizing, but from Nero it broke the spell. Dante remembered to breathe, and his muscles disengaged. Gratefully, Nero had paused to allow for further adjustment, and Dante sighed as the pain dissipated a bit with each beat they waited, and noted that unlike a stabbing, there existed a sense of completeness that made it feel good--a feeling like Nero belonged.

"Okay," Dante breathed, and immediately Nero started into a gentle rhythm, groaning in pleasure as he did so.

"It's so hot," Nero said. "So fucking good; I can't describe it." He changed the pace a little, pulling out and pressing in gradually until the last few inches, which he would shove in fast. "You were keeping this from me, weren't you, old man?"

Dante was too busy concentrating on the sensations erupting from his core, sensations that were making his dick return to its throbbing state. The fullness of being fucked was a marvelous pleasure Dante never before had the chance to pay attention to, and therefore was to lost in the new experience to acknowledge Nero's rhetoric.

He moaned when Nero pistoned faster. Nero brought a hand down to fondle Dante's rejuvenated package, and leaned over to taste the sensitive skin of Dante's neck, cheek, and ear.

"You're a slut, too," Nero whispered hotly. Dante groaned in response, and could have smiled at how once again Nero managed to thoroughly amuse him.

Nero eventually began screwing him in earnest, and Dante judged when Nero was getting close, for his humping and breathing became more excited and erratic. Dante was in the same state, breathing hard and pleasuring his oozing need in Dante's hand. Nero's cock would frequently brush his prostate at the right angle and sent megavolts of pleasure that coiled in his groin. He groaned loudly at each pass like that, hoping Nero would pick up the hint, but to no avail.

Without warning, however, Nero released him, and Dante almost whimpered at the loss as he continued to hump the air.

"You'll say my name," Nero demanded, his eyes glazed over but with his Devil Bringer glowing. "Say Nero."

Dante grunted, not wanting to play this stupid game with him when they both needed release. Therefore he didn't reply, which earned him a spank from Nero's ghostly blue hand.

"Fuck you!" Dante howled, feeling himself recede from the point of orgasm. Nero then gripped Dante's penis with his other hand and yanked him back to the brink.

"Say Nero," Nero demanded again.

"God!" Dante spat through his clenched jaw, and once again the blue hand came down hard as Nero stopped jerking him for a moment. He then pumped him again to the verge of breaking.

"Say my fucking name!" Nero demanded once more, but his voice wavered. He was trying himself not to tumble over the edge, but his grip was slipping. "Just say it this time!"

"Nero!" Dante called. "Nero, Nero Nero Nero Nero..." Dante babbled, saying it over an over again like a prayer.

"Oh, fuck, Dante!" Nero roared, his restraint finally overcome. He fired chains and chains of hot cum into Dante until it overflowed and spilled onto the wrinkled bedsheets in large globs.

In his ecstacy, however, Nero had stopped helping Dante to the finish line. As he finished and pulled out, instantly Dante reassumed control, as if sex were his car and he was only letting Nero borrow the wheel. He flipped them over and straddled Nero's shoulders, putting one hand on the headboard and using the other to aim his painfully teased erection at Nero's face. He pumped himself furiously, his balls aching for release. Nero, supporting the weight, smelling Dante's pungent sex, and feeling the searing heat of Dante's sac on his chest, stirred a little from his post-orgasmic haze. He leaned forward and lazily started licking and kissing the tip. Dante groaned, his fingers a blur as he stroked himself harder, eager to feed his essence to Nero and thinking it payback for leaving him hanging. For the second time, Nero was amazed at how well-endowed the man was, especially when he sucked its fat head into his mouth and sucked on it like an overripe cherry. Even Dante's testicles rested between his pectorals like plums wrapped in peachskin.

"Nero, Nero, Nero. Oh, fuck. Yeah, you're so sexy," Dante moaned. "Nero, God!" His plums twitched and he thrust forward, spurting a line of his load across Nero's cheeks before he could reinsert it into his lover's mouth for the next one and he rest. His hand worked himself dry, and Nero's Adam's apple bobbed rapidly to take the copius amount. Nero thought the taste neither pleasant nor wretched, but between the cum flowing over his tongue, and that coating his bowels from previously, Dante flooded Nero as if he could not fill him enough with his seed.

The flow abated, however, and Dante pulled away at the last trickle. Nero turned away his head and closed his eyes. He inwardly gloated over getting his way with Dante, even if it felt a bit underhanded, so to speak. He was also once again astounded when Dante began kissing and licking his cum-drizzled cheeks, cleaning him like healways seemed to do after making a mess of him. He blushed, but held still for Dante to finish.

Satisfied that Nero's face was clean, Dante rolled of of him, seeming to be exhausted. He reached out an arm to wrap around Nero's waist and pull the younger man close. He kissed Nero through his soft hair, while Nero, who was feeling exhausted himself, let him do whatever he wanted.

Dante murmured something, though, that made Nero's skin turn to gooseflesh and his chest tighten: "Mine." murmured. Dante said nothing more, even after he kissed Nero again and released him to fall asleep. Until Nero fell into sleep as well, he truly felt like he was loved.

* * *

**A/N:** By the way, have I mentioned that this fanfic is explicit?


	10. Irritation

**A/N:** Arigatou once again for the continued feedback!! Finally hit the 10 chapter mark, something I hadn't anticipated when I began writing this. Thanks to you readers, I'm having a lot of fun stirring things up between our favorite demon boys! .

Thank you once again, and enjoy!

* * *

Nero awoke to hear sheets rustling. He also felt chilly, and quickly discerned the reason why: Dante, in his sleep pilfered all of the covers, leaving Nero's bare and naked atop the creaky mattress. He glanced over to his sleeping partner who--appearing to be as content as a pig in shit--was marinading himself in a puddle of drool on his pillow.

Nero considered what he could stick in the elder hunter's slackened mouth for a good prank, but felt too cold, groggy, and spent to do anything other than get up, put some clothes on, and forget about it.

After a brief trip to the lavatory, Nero quietly descended the staircase. The copper light filtering through the window suggested dusk, and he paused for a moment at the bottom of the steps. He had never wasted a whole day just fucking and sleeping. Would that be the life with Dante? He sighed, and glanced over to the phone that was still on the floor, still in one piece, though the dial tone was blaring from being off the hook. He picked the phone up and replaced it on the desk, but kept his hand on the receiver. He wavered, thinking that he had the opportunity to call Kyrie, but at the same time, he did not want to reveal that he did not entirely trust Dante.

He picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear. He wanted to hear her voice at least. Dante did not have to know. He dialed, then waited, hearing Kyrie's phone ring on the other side. One ring, two rings...

Suddenly, he heard heavy footsteps approach the front door. Nero panicked, slamming the receiver down as the door swung open wide.

"We're back!" Lady called, stepping through. "Nero!"

"Evening, ladies," Nero said as calmly as he could, watching Trish also follow Lady in.

"Who ya calling?" Lady asked, walking past to store her armaments.

"Nobody," Nero said.

"Did anyone important call us while we were gone, then?" Lady pressed, throwing the question over her shoulder as she untied and unfastened her belongings.

"I don't think so."

"Where's Dante?"

"Upstairs."

"Still? Don't tell me that slackass slept all day and left his new pet with nothing to do."

Nero soured at the term 'pet.' "Not exactly," he said.

"You look like you just got up yourself," Lady remarked. Having tossed off her equipment, Lady came to lean against the desk next to Nero. "What did you do all day?"

Nero dropped his eyes from her and cleared his throat, preferring not to comment.

"I have a good idea," Trish said, her form reclining on the couch. She then threw a wink at Lady. Lady grinned. She leaned in closer, a move which allowed Nero to notice her ample cleavage. He was also forced to notice a heavy air of spiced perfume about her, too. He thought he loathed her, but in that moment he felt overwhelmed by her. He thought of Kyrie, and how she was so modest by comparison.

"In that case, Dante can pay for the oil today, or after the wedding if he prefers," she said in a low voice, giving a playful elbow to Nero. He rolled his eyes at her teasing.

"That'd be the damned day," Nero said, crossing his arms and leaning back on the desk. Lady smiled.

Suddenly, all of their attention darted up to the stairs. The upper floor seemed to be vibrating with increasing intensity, followed by loud stomping, the source of which finally making its way to the top step.

"Is that you, Dante?" Lady called, craning her neck.

"Should o' known it was you two making all the goddamned racket," Dante said, now more calmly descending the steps. "I thought we might have had a customer."

In reality, Dante had bolted when he found himself alone in the bedroom. Not that he did not trust Nero, but he was afraid the kid would do something ridiculous and immature, like call his girlfriend while he was asleep. He'd make Nero pay for making him nearly break an arm while trying to get a leg through his jeans. He relaxed, however, and was relieved to see that his concern had been truly an asinine assumption.

"Speaking of," Trish said. "While we were out, we got a tip on an infestation a couple of towns over, in Dolsin."

"Not more Scarecrows, I hope? I'm tired of those walking shitbags," Dante replied, punctuating with a yawn.

"Lady and I would have taken care of it if that were true."

Dante seemed to ignore her, or to not hear her, because in an instant he was at the desk, wedging himself awkardly between Nero and Lady. Taking the hint, Lady huffed and moved to sit next to Trish.

"Who's paying?" Dante asked, throwing an arm around Nero. Although Nero was interested in the conversation, he was also paying acute attention to Dante. He elbowed the elder hunter in the gut, who grimaced and swiftly removed his arm.

"Dolsin's town hall is willing to shell out a couple of grand, depending on how well the job is done," Lady said.

"And what's the problem?" Dante asked.

Trish answered, "The city prides itself on their grand gardens and arbors, yet a gang of lizardmen have now occupied the grounds."

"Assaults? Why can't the local guard take care of them?" Nero asked.

"Word is that there is a new strain of Assault on the loose that they're having difficulty with," Trish said.

"Hmm," Dante said, hopping to his feet. With excitement in his eye, or perhaps money signs, he said, "In that case, it sounds like it's worth a look, then, no?" Trish smiled.

"Why don't you go, and take Fido here out for a walk with you?" Lady suggested, pointing her chin Nero.

"Why, that's a capital idea!" Dante piped playfully, cuffing Nero on the shoulder. Nero felt a headache coming on, but was very eager to get out of the house.

"Alright, but try not to break a hip out there," he said. Dante laughed. He then pecked Nero on the lips and headed upstairs. Embarrassed, Nero glanced at the two women, and saw that Lady in particular was giving him a concerned look.

"I'd be careful if I were you," she then said, after a door was heard closing upstairs.

"Even with a new type of Assault, we should be able to handle it," Nero replied.

"That's not what I mean."

Nero tilted his head and furrowed his brow, bading her to elaborate.

"He's like a kitten when it comes to new things," Lady said. "He'll love playing with you until the day he decides he's bored. Then he'll drop you and act like he was never interested in the first place."

"Dante?" Nero said, still processing the information.

"He'll still think he owns you, but you'll feel as retired as his collection of Devil Arms," Lady finished.

Anxiety painted Nero's face, and he looked to Trish for her input. She folded her lips and quietly sighed, giving him a pained look that affirmed Lady's assessment.

"Why are you telling me this?" Nero asked.

"So you don't get too invested," Lady said. "That may be hard not to do, though. He'll treat you like the center of the universe. But just be prepared if one day he freezes you out."

"Excuse me," Nero said, getting up and heading to the front door. He needed some air.

After Nero exited, Trish looked to Lady and asked, "Why do you have to be so petty?"

"I don't want him around." Lady declared, her face falling. "He's irritating. He'll corrupt the business, too, if we let Dante get too sentimental about him."

"But you don't think lying like that is a little over the top?"

"Nonsense. We don't know if it is a lie yet, anyway."

"Sure, but it'll be your funeral when Dante finds out."

Lady huffed, choosing then to rise from the couch and retire to her quarters upstairs without another word. After pondering a moment, Trish then got up and glanced toward the front door, feeling a pang of conscience. She sighed and headed upstairs, deciding she would intervene with the hunter she knew best.


	11. Ego Trip

**A/N:** Okay, wow. Geez, it's been a long time, hasn't it? I can't say how sorry I am to all of you patient readers who have favorited and commented on this story. You all have been so encouraging that I can't thank you enough, and that makes me feel extra bad XD

BUT! I am happy to report that I'm back on with this story. Although I'm still wavering a little on what direction to take this story, I don't anticipate any more RL interruptions in the near future. Crossing my fingers there.

But without further ado--please enjoy!

* * *

Nero's legs crumpled when he closed the shop door behind him. He perched on its steps like he had the night before. He held his head in his hands and sighed. Through his fingers he noticed that Red Queen, Blue Rose, and his waistcoat still lay discarded around the steps. He supposed he would need those for today. He cursed to himself, hoping that the elements had not damaged them too severely. He got up and reached for the polished metal of Red Queen--its blade frosty with chilled condensation, and its cold grip clung to the skin of Nero's human palm. He pressed the tip of the blade to the ground revved it gently, listening for any irregularities.

He stopped. He wondered why he agreed to a week if Dante was not intending to be serious. On the other hand, was he even serious about Dante as well? The past twenty-four hours had taught him about attraction, and learned that sex was a good answer. Or at least learned that sex with Dante was a greater thing than the younger man could ever imagine, if nothing else.

A puzzling thing, however, was that sex failed to resolve a greater yearning for Dante's attention. The yearning struck him as a swelling appetite, yet it seemed the more he consumed from Dante, the more hungry he felt. The pangs stabbed through his mind as well as his gut. He had to admit, Lady's cautionary words twisted sharply in his viscera and exacerbated his fear of the worst probable outcome of his relationship with Dante: that he *would* be discarded like a cheap toy. He grew nauseated when he imagined Dante ceasing to care whether Nero was around or not, and being treated no better than a dead memory. Just when he thought he had his problems figured out, he felt as though he were back to square one.

Nero pondered what he was doing at Devil May Cry. Should not head back to Fortuna immediately, where at least he could feel like he always belonged? Kyrie would be there, and she would undoubtably love him. There were no questions, no pain with her. He could forget as long as she was there.

He was so unworthy of her now. He would not be sharing in her trust, but would be merely taking advantage of it if he returned now. He wasn't sure if he could hide his emotional crisis from her, and he would feel foolish if he ended up having to return to Devil May Cry--to Dante, with whom his questions began, and with whom his answers would be.

Nero felt his eyes sting. He would endure the week. A week was ample time for him to resolve his doubts. If it was not enough time, then to hell with it--to Dante, and to Devil May Cry.

Nero blinked and rubbed his face before he moved to gather up his equipment from the street. He threw on the waistcoat, buckled his weapons, and went back in under the flickering neon of Devil May Cry.

-----------

"Dante?" Trish called. She rapped on the slightly ajar door of Dante's bedroom.

"That you, Trish?" Dante replied. "What's up?"

Trish took his implicit permission to enter, and once she was through the door she closed it behind her. Dante, who was finishing with dressing himself, peered at her curiously while fumbling with the last buttons of his black shirt. "If you want money, you'll have to wait till after the job."

"The kid," she began. "Nero. How long do you think it will take before he figures it out?"

"Figures what out?"

"That he's important to you?"

Dante paused his ministrations and blinked. "He can't be that slow of a learner," he said. Trish chuckled.

"Actually, I think he's about as dense as you are. Plus, he's a kid, and has only ever had one girl in his life."

"Had, yes," Dante emphasized. "And since you think I'm so unbelievably dense, would you mind telling me exactly what are you suggesting?"

Trish smirked and said, "I'm saying that you need to take a direct approach. He is very much like you, after all."

Dante grinned. "Tapping that cute little ass of his isn't direct?"

Trish sighed. "I thought you had learned your lesson about that."

"Yeah, but she's over it, isn't she?" Dante said.

Trish rolled her eyes, then shrugged and said, "You always were an old dog. Now you're starting to look like it, at least."

Dante mustered his best wounded puppy look in response. He then furrowed his brow, thinking that Trish ought to try taking her own advice about being direct sometimes. Though Trish was being a bit too cryptic for his liking, he nonetheless knew that she had a damn good reason to be talking with him like this. He also knew that she had already given him more than enough clues, for his heartbeat quickened, and though he had no reason, his body was convinced that something was wrong.

"Excuse me," Dante said low, and Trish moved to let him pass. He descended the stairs, and saw only Lady on the couch attending to her nails.

"Where's Nero?" Dante asked pointedly.

Not bothering to look up, Lady shrugged and said, "Outside, I guess."

Dante leapt down the stairs and made long strides toward the front door, but the wooden slab opened before he could grab the handle. He was blasted with a gust of cold air that made him recoil slightly.

"There you are, kid," Dante greeted, seeing Nero slip in past him. A shiver of worry shook him when Nero did not respond or even turn around. He watched as Nero dropped his weapons by the door and disappear up the stairs.

"What's gotten into him?" Dante asked Lady once Nero was out of sight.

"Heh, beats me," she replied, still acting more interested in her nails.

Dante snorted. In a flare of rage, Dante slammed the door and caused Lady to jump. "You fucking said something, didn't you?" Dante spat.

Appearing deeply affronted, Lady said "Sorry Dante, but no. And just what the hell would I say to him? For all we know it was something you said." When Dante seemed to back down and didn't reply immediately, Lady smirked.

"Please, tell me truthfully: are you still sore after all this time?" Dante asked more calmly.

"Of course not, dear. But really, Dante, you're much too old to believe you're in love with a child like him, aren't you?" Lady said.

"And aren't you a little too young to keep fantasizing that I'm in love with you?"

Lady stood up abruptly. She moved to pass him toward the stairs and said, "Get over yourself, you bastard."

Before Lady could get too far up the steps, Dante said, "You know, as much as I value your professional cooperation, I will promise you that if you fuck things up between me and the kid, you'll learn how much of a bastard I can be. I guarantee it."

Lady huffed, though she smiled wickedly. "You won't need any help fucking things up. Your own ego will see to that, and *that* I can guarantee," she said.

She then sauntered upstairs, and when Dante heard her steps fade and a door close, he sighed and moved to plop himself down on the couch. His ego was not that big, he thought. He did still think of Lady as a friend, didn't he? Outside of that one sore spot in their relationship, anyway. But was he really at the point where he would threaten his friends when it came to the kid?

A million thoughts rushed over his mind like a rushing tide, as if he had realized his certain death. He found it almost amusing how that one human quality--the ability to love--could be the source of so much strength yet simultaneously be so prickly and fragile to maintain. He thought to go ahead and play roulette with Ivory or string up Rebellion over his head.

He looked up when he heard foosteps again on the stairs. Despite himself, he smiled when he saw Nero descend.

"You feeling okay there, squirt?" Dante said. Aiming for a distraction, he wanted to egg some reaction out of him.

"Was feeling as old as you look after coming in from the cold, you geezer. Thanks for throwing my shit out the door last night, by the way," Nero retorted. Despite the playful insults, he seemed much chipper, and much to Dante's relief. "I'm fine now, though. So when are we leaving?"

"Anytime," Dante said. His dour mood instantly disappeared, compelling him to meet Nero at the bottom of the steps and pull him into a gentle embrace. He felt Nero hesitate, which concerned him, but it was only for a moment before he relaxed completely.

"Alright," Dante said a moment later, mussing Nero's hair a little. He was feeling anxious to go, noting that it had been a long time since he had looked forward to beating the unholy crap out of a horde of demons. "Let me go get the keys. Dolsin's a little ways away from here so we're gonna take the bike. Hope you don't mind riding bitch," he said with a wink.

"We could always just take your wheelchair instead. They come with motors too now, don't they?" Nero shot back. Dante laughed out loud as he moved to behind the desk to retrieve a set of keys from one of the drawers.

"Yeah, but then you would have to sit in my lap," Dante said. "On second thought, that would be a highly agreeable arrangement."

Nero rolled his eyes, but did not bother concealing a smile as he picked up his weapons and secured them on his person.

"Hey, Trish! We're leaving!" Dante called up the stairs. There was no response, but then a lightbulb seemed to flicker in Dante's mind. "Oh, shit," Dante muttered, then pulled out his wallet. He slapped a couple of bills down on the desk. "There's cash here!" he called up again.

"Thanks! Stay out of trouble!" Trish then called back.

Dante chuckled and said to Nero, "See? No respect. The only love I get is for my wallet."

Nero grinned and said, "So when can I expect you to pony up?"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Dante said, laughing as he moved retrieve Rebellion and holster his twin pistols. "After I show you a different kind of ponying up."

"Yeehaw, cowboy," Nero mocked. Dante chuckled, slinging an arm around Nero and leading them both out the door. Any more banter and Dante knew he wouldn't be able to control himself, for he only knew of one way to reward the happiness Nero so easily gave him.

He would enjoy the week. A week was ample time to convince Nero to stay. If not, then to hell with the rules. He did not want to gamble--only to win.


	12. A Good Fit

**A/N:** Thank you all for the welcomes back! The excitement is infectious, and so I am thrilled to put out another chapter here. It's rather short, but it actually was the beginning of a much larger installment which I am still working on. I decided to split it and post what I have, but hey, who's gonna complain about that? ^_^

And if I may comment on my own story for a second, I'm actually not sure why I made Lady into a huge biatch. I have nothing against her character, but then I figured, why not? Drama is fun, and the more there is, the better! I hope most of you feel the same.

Thank you again and enjoy!

* * *

Nero sighed, standing at the door of Dante's room and looking about for something that would work.

"Can I help you find something?"

Following the voice, Nero turned to see Trish looking at him curiously. Embarrassment struck him as he momentarily felt like a customer lost in a clothing boutique.

"You wouldn't happen to have any large gloves I could borrow, would you?" Nero asked. Trish smiled at him and nodded, then beckoned for him to follow to her room.

Her room was not what he expected, though truthfully he had no presumptions about it. As he walked in, he supposed he expected more color and softness, but the reality was as unremarkable as Dante's, giving new meaning to the phrase "bare necessities". There was a bed with white sheets, a simple bureau, a tan-shaded lamp, and a small, wooden desk. The only thing that might have suggested that the room belonged to a woman was a faint but sweet smell of perfume. The room was also much cleaner than Dante's, except for the parts littered with personal antiques, doodads and trinkets instead of dirty laundry. He supposed they were souvenirs from all the jobs she had.

"For your arm, I presume?" Trish asked as she rummaged through one of the drawers of the bureau.

"Yeah," Nero said.

"I'm sure I've got an old pair of long ones around here," Trish said, digging deeper.

A moment of awkward silence passed between them, save for the faint rustling. Though they had found little in common with one another since their brief introduction, Nero trusted Trish, noting that he had done so immediately despite not knowing hardly anything about her. Though she seemed to be of few words and rather aloof, her demeanor was confident and reassuring, and it gave Nero the impression of her as a wise old mother--not that he would ever tell her that.

She was still burying herself in her drawer when she suddenly asked, "Can I ask you something?"

Thinking of no reason to deny her, Nero said, "Yeah."

"Where do you see yourself in a year? Two years?"

Nero was blindsided, anticipating a question about his size or color preference. He stopped short of physically staggering, but brought a hand up and ran his fingers through his hair as he thought of a good answer. Unfortunately, the answer was not forthcoming, for he never in his life gave one thought to a question like that. He was a man who lived day to day, minute to minute.

Trish chuckled quietly as the silence drew on while Nero pondered. Deciding some answer was better than none, Nero then said, "I don't know, honestly. I guess I'll be in Fortuna doing what I usually do."

"Really," Trish said. "I'm sure Dante would be very disappointed to hear that."

Nero furrowed his brow, for he was confused and slightly aggravated by the remark. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when Trish said, "Found 'em!"

Nero shifted gears once again to note the long, scarlet-colored gloves that Trish lifted out of the drawer like pieces of butcher meat. Though they naturally were quite feminine, they appeared long and wide enough to conceal a good amount of his Devil Bringer, and also seemed to match its ruddy color.

"Try these," Trish said. Nero almost smiled at her excitement, and forgot all about their conversation as he squeezed his thick arm through the cloth of the right-handed glove. He flexed his fingers and wrist once it was fully applied. The fit was very snug, to be sure, but the cloth covered his arm until just below the elbow and obscured the azure glow nicely. He did not think he would be able to do much better, so he nodded appreciatively.

"I think this will work fine," Nero told her. "Perfectly, in fact. I just hope you're not too attached to these gloves."

"Oh, no, don't worry," Trish said. "They're pretty old, and I probably haven't worn them since the day I bought them. Besides, I can just buy another pair with Dante's paycheck."

Nero chuckled and said, "And have him take it out on me? In that case, I better be careful."

He had never seen Trish laugh before, so it surprised him when she did so after his remark. She then said, "I think Dante may have it right this time."

Nero, again ready to ask her to elaborate, but was distracted when he heard heavy click-clack of heels pass by in the hallway, followed by a loud slam of a door.

"I think you better get a move on," Trish said. "Good luck today."

"Thanks a lot," Nero said. He left her room and, when he made it to the top of the steps, paused for a moment when he noticed Dante slumped on the couch and wearing an uncharacteristic expression of deep contemplation. He moved to descend the steps, but felt nervous, like he had just missed something gravely serious. He found it difficult to marry in his mind Dante's depressed aura with the incurable flippancy he was so used to.

He was relieved, then, when Dante suddenly looked up at him and smiled a second later. "You feeling okay there, squirt?" he asked, a bizarre question to Nero given that he should have been the one asking it instead. Except for the "squirt" part, the diminutive implication making Nero think twice about giving a shit about the older man's feelings.

"Was feeling as old as you look after coming in from the cold, you geezer. Thanks for throwing my shit out the door last night, by the way," he replied. He saw the concern that flashed across Dante's face, making Nero immediately say "I'm fine now, though. So, when are we leaving?"

"Anytime," Dante said, moving to meet Nero at the bottom of the steps. Nero involuntarily thought about Lady's words and thought to push him away, but it was too late. Dante had closed the distance and wrapped his strong arms tightly around Nero's frame. Nero was taken off guard by how purely affectionate the move was, and his doubts were tranquilized by Dante's comforting scent and warmth. He felt his eyes sting a second time that day, wondering how long it would be until Dante stopped making him feel like the center of his universe.


	13. Bumpy Ride

**A/N:** Another update! Unfortunately, it's even shorter than the last. :-( But I want to get something out everyday (if I can) to make up for the long hiatus. I think I will spend a bit more time on the next installment, however...

Thank you precious readers again for all of your continued comments, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"So you looking forward to our little trip to Toontown?" Dante called over his shoulder.

Nero furrowed his brow against the cold whips of air that streamed over Dante's shoulder to batter his face.

"What?" he said.

"Aren't you playing Jessica to my Roger Rabbit today?" Dante asked, taking a hand off the motorcycle handlebars to tap Nero's gloved right arm that was wrapped around his waist.

"Hers were purple, dumbass."

"Really? Figures you would pay attention to her clothing. I'm proud of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

Nero huffed, turning his head to plant a frozen cheek against Dante's back. Their random, mindless exchanges that Dante often initiated during their journey made Nero consider uppercutting Dante directly in the scrotum, except that the older man was driving--and quite precariously at that. Every hairpin turn Dante made when they passed through busy streets made Nero think of ground beef and tomato sauce. Nero was not sure how Dante managed to keep his eyes open on the road while the air was like pins and needles, or if that was what was making the elder hunter so reckless in the first place.

Dante then said, "You shouldn't have to hide it."

"Easy for you to _SAY!_" Nero replied, inadvertantly emphasizing his statement when a sudden turn caught him off guard. He instinctually leaned into the turn, and when they straightened he said, "It's not a big deal. I've had to cover it all my life thus far."

"It's not like you, though. Why is this the one system you refuse to buck?"

"It's just less of a hassle. Less questions makes everybody happy."

"Who gives a shit what other people think?"

"You do when all you see otherwise are looks of fear and disgust."

Dante said nothing for a moment, pausing to inhale and exhale deeply as he carefully considered Nero's point of view, though it was no use--he was deeply irritated by Nero's easy resignation over something that was purely symbolic. He felt Nero squeeze his abdomen a little tighter before Nero said, "You know, the only people I've ever met who seemed to not even care about my arm have been you, Trish, and Lady. And Kyrie."

"I don't care," Dante replied. He truly did not care about the arm, but could have cared a lot less at the mention of the songstress, for with her also came a sour reminder that he should be driving to Fortuna instead to collect payment from her. Since when did he ever avoid money? Since now, since Nero was a big exception.

Kyrie's name had flew out without a second thought by the clueless boy, though to Nero it was hardly a faux pas. He kept talking, saying, "I really owe her a great debt. You know, I spent most of my life wandering, fighting for shelter and picking through garbage in order to live because of this arm. I would still be living that way if I hadn't found a home in Fortuna, all thanks to Kyrie. I think that is why I fell in love with-"

Nero stopped short, realizing that he was rambling. He was also concerned when Dante said nothing, choosing instead to punch up their speed. Nero noticed the increase, and said "Though now my arm might be the only way Kyrie will be able to identify my remains if and when they scrape us off the pavement."

Dante remained silent.

"Hey, old man-" Nero began.

"I'll drop you off at a bus stop if this is too scary for you, kid," Dante said, and with more irritation behind it than he intended.

"What the hell crawled up your ass?" Nero asked, visibly stunned by the outburst. He loosened his arms around the elder man's waist, a waist he noticed that had become rigid along with Dante's attitude.

Dante sighed and said, "Nothing. I'm sorry."

Dante fell silent again, but Nero decided not to press him about his emotional state, at least while they were still on the road.

"So what do you think about my idea of installing an automatic pizza receiver at the front door?" Dante asked. Nero suddenly felt a headache coming on, but to the younger man's relief, Dante relaxed and slowed down, figuring they would make it through the rest of the trip in one piece after all.


	14. Contest

**A/N: **OMG YES! An update! My sincerest apologies. I won't lie--I've been a bit frustrated with this story. There are a number of things here that need resolution, so I've been struggling to get this story on the right track (so things don't seem boring or irrelevant). I'm also a lazy bum sometimes. Oh well, this is a relatively long chapter, and I am feeling good about what I'm going to have happen next, so I hope you all will continue to stay tuned as I whip myself into mass production.

Thank you all for your patience in the meantime. Now on with the show!

* * *

Dante killed the engine and leaned the bike just off the curb outside Dolsin' city hall. The building was like a miniature castle, with gray stone masonry skinning the outside, and pointed crowns capped the multiple spires that seemed to pierce the very sky. The structure was elevated on a marble foundation, and deep scarlet stripe bisected the shallow steps leading to the doorway. Two pairs of thick columns sprouting from the elevated foundation flanked either side. Looming above was an impressive frieze depicting the skyline of city, sheltered by an angel's feathered wings, whose tips curved and jutted out from the sides.

Nero paused on the sidewalk to take in the structure, and noted its rather extravagant appearance compared with the rest of the city, where non-government buildings and dwellings were patched with unpolished stone and thatch. They were nowhere near as sturdy and ornate. He glanced around at the town as if to confirm this, but was interrupted by a passerby who stopped short, appearing somewhat startled by his appearance. Similar looks from passerbys had been glancing but obvious as the locals took in the two well-armed individuals with very similar features gunning through the streets on a noisy bike. Nero had reason to be irritated, but he had grown accustomed to others' fear long ago.

Truly, Nero was surprised himself at how busy and casual the citizens were, despite the call for demon hunters. He anticipated that Dolsin would be evacuated or at least maintaining strict curfews. The city was larger than he imagined, however, and in the absence of neither security measures he presumed that the city was actually too large for the armed forces to handle, or that the local government was too corrupt to care about it. He thought the latter a strong possibility, and he unconsciously clenched his demon hand.

Both hunters entered city hall. Nero spotted the back of a woman at the front desk and stopped. She clearly did not notice the two silver-haired hunters, for she was clearly busy with sorting documents among many files arranged on several shelves. In addition, she was cradling a phone receiver under her chin and carrying about god-knows-what. Nero paused, content to wait until the woman acknowledged them on her own.

To his chagrin, Dante charged past him and right up to the desk. Leaning on an elbow, Dante cleared his throat loudly and gave a couple, unnecessarily hard taps on the desk bell. The harsh ringing echoed through the cavernous lobby, as if letting the whole building know that Dante was here and that yes, he was a total jerk.

"Hello, do you have an appointme-EEK!" The receptionist blanched, and the phone receiver cradled under her chin dropped to her lap as she spun around in annoyance. She then swallowed and said, "You must be mercenaries."

"Aww, lady, you're breakin' my heart." Dante said, putting a hand to his chest. "Is that anyway to react to good neighbors who just want to protect you, your friends and family?" Dante continued in the smoothest voice Nero had ever heard. Dante then leaned over the desk and reached into his coat, and with a sleight of hand pulled out a single red rose to offer her.

"I'm not even going to ask where fuck did you got that," Nero muttered hotly. He was growing used to Dante's insanity, but scene before him was too much.

"Hey, watch the French in front of a lady, kid," Dante scolded. Nero rolled his eyes. He noted that the receptionist didn't seem to be listening anyway, for her eyes had long since glazed over with adoration once she accepted the flower. Nero then noticed that Dante wasn't looking at her at all, and soon met the elder's amused eyes with a look of puzzlement.

"Sorry if I made you jealous," Dante then said.

"Like hell," Nero countered, folding his arms. Dante chuckled, walking over to Nero to wrap his arms around Nero's waist. The younger man ripened like a tomato, stunned even more by Dante's continued audacity. More than that, the old man's ability to be both charming and irritating at the same time boggled Nero's mind.

"Dante, stop," Nero pleaded meekly, but Dante didn't seem to hear him. Before he could protest again, Nero's mind blanked completely as Dante leaned down gently caressed his lips with his own. The kiss was so gentle and warm, and for the second time Nero was not sure how to respond to this side of Dante. Despite himself, he pressed himself further into Dante's arms.

"Ahem. Can I help you?" a male-sounding voice said.

Startled by the voice, Nero leapt backward in a flash, stopping just short of an air hike. While his mind was exploding with obvious embarrassment, Dante, in frightening possession of himself, smiled and said to the man, "Why yes, I'm Dante from Devil May Cry, and this is my associate, Nero. We've heard that you have a demon problem and are offering our services to take care of it."

The man's eyes swept over the two men before he cleared his throat and said, "Dante from Devil May Cry, you say? How fortunate that we've attracted your attention." He then stuck out a hand and said, "My name is Samler and I am the mayor of this city. With great honor, I welcome you and your uh, associate to Dolsin."

Dante took the hand and shook it vigorously, obviously pleased to hear his reputation had preceded him. He then invited Nero to do the same. Still blushing a bit, Nero nonetheless nodded and gave Samler an awkward left-handed shake, all the while wishing he could jump kick the shit-eating grin off Dante's face. Though Nero was not good at the customer side of the business yet, he at least knew to try for a good impression no matter how he felt at the moment.

"So tell us about the problem," Dante then said.

"Come to my office and have a seat first. I'm sure it's been a long trip for you," Samler said.

"Wasn't so bad," Dante replied.

The hunters were led from lobby through a string of corridors and up a few flights of stairs. Combined with the plethora of alpha-numeric abbreviations that labeled each wing and each door, Nero soon felt more than a little disoriented. That was bureaucracy for you, he figured--more daunting and cryptic than a demon's lair. He relaxed when Samler finally stopped at a door and lead them inside his office.

"Again, thank you for responding so soon to my call for hunters. Please make yourselves comfortable before I explain the details," the mayor said, moving to seat himself behind his rich, polished hardwood desk. The hunters took their seats; Nero leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, while Dante reclined into a lazyboy slump.

"So what seems to be the problem?" Nero asked, sounding like a doctor breaking the ice with a patient.

Samler glanced at him and said, "The problem has to do with an infestation of demons that we believe are residing in the woods just north of here. There is currently no evidence, but it is generally believed to be a cursed forest, and the people have left it undisturbed. If demons did live there, then they have been letting us live in peace only until recently."

"Why haven't the people been evacuated?" Nero asked.

Samler nodded. "The city is not completely defenseless--we've managed to protect ourselves for this long with conventional weapons from a wide range lesser demons, Assaults included. Though we've still managed to fend them off from the more populous sections of town, demons now come with such frequency and are so destructive that I fear that the next few waves will surely break us and the budget. That's why we need people to investigate and destroy their source, which we believe to deep within Galarea Forest that borders this town," he said.

"Wait," Nero said. "Is there anything more you can tell us about the demons themselves?"

"Hmm," Dayton said. His eyes darted to and from the hunters, and he raised a closed hand to his lips as he cleared his throat. "Well, your guess is as good as mine about what they're after. But these demons are much larger than regular Assaults, and reports say that their bodies are made of solid stone."

Quirking a brow, Nero pivoted his head to glance at Dante, who was unreadable. "Gotcha," Dante then said, vaulting from his seat. Nero rose as well. "I think we can handle it. Hopefully it won't take long, Mister Mayor."

"Wait," Samler said hurriedly. "One more thing. Please, if you'll sit."

Puzzled, the two men retook their chairs. Samler said, "Supposedly, there are ancient ruins sleeping there, as well as a powerful artifact that the demons may be after."

"Why would demons be interested in the artifact?" Nero asked.

"Who knows. But since both of you appear to be seasoned in this sort of thing, I am willing to offer triple the reward money if you can secure it for me."

Dante suddenly sat up. "Triple, you say?"

"That's right," Samler said, smirking.

Dante whistled, then said, "You can count on it, then."

Nero cast his partner a stunned look. He was appalled that Dante would accept so easily and without question. He remained silent, however, and Samler said, "Thank you gentlemen, that is all. Please, be careful, and if you can, do bring me back that artifact so that it does not fall into the wrong hands."

"Heh, sure," Dante said. He said goodbye and made his exit. Nero followed behind rather robotically, still reeling from how Dante had conducted himself. His attitude grew from astonished to stormy as he followed Dante, who seemed to have a miraculous sense of direction as he led them from deep within the bowels of the building. Nero huffed as Dante blew the receptionist a farewell kiss before they headed out.

However, no sooner had they made it outside and down the marble steps did Nero grab Dante by the shoulder to spin him around. "I don't trust that guy, and I don't think you should either," Nero declared firmly.

Dante flashed him a look of mock disbelief and asked, "What! Don't you have faith in your fellow man, especially when he's in dire need of help?"

"Whatever, old man. You can't tell me you buy that bullshit. You must find it strange that even though this town is about to be overrun, nobody sure as hell ain't acting like it. The outskirts were hardly damaged as we came in, too. I think this Samler guy wants us to hunt for treasure, not demons. I say we ditch this job and go home."

Dante's heart swelled. He grinned and said, "Congrats, Sherlock. You're more cut out for this than I was at your age."

Nero snorted in amusement. "I bet," he said, earning him a swift punch to the abdomen from the elder hunter. "Fucking hell," Nero began, doubling over and continuing with a string of expletives.

Dante completed his combo by playfully wrapping an arm around the younger's neck. In his best professorial voice, he said, "Now see here class, being nosy is a good thing. By asking good questions and getting the client to disclose as much information as possible, you ensure that the jobs are legit and not wild goose chases."

"Get the fuck off of me," Nero replied hotly. "Or are you too senile these days to remember when we're in public?"

Dante laughed and released Nero, holding his hands up to intercept the punch he knew would fly in his direction. As he predicted, Nero swung wildly as he felt the elder let up, but Dante was able to catch one of his fists to still him. "Stop acting like a brat, then, or I'll have to tan your backside in front of all these people, too."

Nero rolled his eyes and yanked his fist from Dante's grip. "So what the hell? Are we actually taking this job or not?"

Dante said, "Well, you're right that he probably could care less about the demons, and just wants us to go get the artifact for him. That means we'd be spelunking and not exterminating, in which case we would have to, ahem, 'suggest' that he rework his advertising methods."

"But?" Nero asked.

"But I have heard about a weapon in this area that might actually be very dangerous."

Nero sighed. "We're actually going to indulge this asshole?"

"Hey, it might be interesting after all. Better than sitting around the office at any rate."

Nero shrugged, not wanting to agree, but for the moment he trusted that Dante knew best.

They hopped on the bike and headed north toward the of Galarea Forest. Once outside the borders of town, they spotted a region in the distance that was like a black blanket draped over the shallow slope of a mountain. The ride was relatively quiet, save for the roar of the motorcycle engine as it traveled at a safe speed--safe for Dante, anyway. Neither Dante nor Nero was in any hurry to get this job done, both having already factored in the large measure of Samler's greed in the equation. But because Dante actually accepted the work, however, Nero could not determine who in fact was the greedier man. Either way, it disappointed him to think of Dante as being so selfish.

Nero pressed his cheek against the elder's back as they rode, and he furrowed his brow as he probed the subject further. He corrected himself, for it was not altogether Dante's selfishness that surprised him. Both of them had a bad case of a competitive, me-first attitude. They lived for victory, and that complusion was the primary culprit of their masculine rivalry, Nero realized. That, however, did not disturb him as much as the elder's evidently shameless opportunism. Nero presumed that as long as he got paid, Dante didn't care who or what was asking for his talents. Nero trusted Dante to be above such a way of thinking, but he could not actually convince himself of that idea. He had spent less than a week with Dante, including the time in Fortuna. Dante's attitude about business could be the same about his personal life.

The possibility occurred to him that his impression of the devil hunter was wrong all along--that when you stripped away the legend, Dante was actually a terribly flawed and rather pathetic example of a human. Nero was disgusted to think that this was his mentor and lover might actually be such a spineless hypocrite, one who didn't believe or didn't care about his own words about what separates a human and a demon: a loving heart.

"Ouch. I can't help that I'm so squeezably soft, but you're pushing it," Dante tossed behind his shoulder. Nero then realized that he had been digging his fingertips into the elder hunter's torso.

"Sorry," Nero muttered. He relaxed, but still felt anxious from his current train of thought. Nero supposed spineless hypocrite was too much. Lady's warning, however, jumped to the forefront of his mind. He wondered if he believed her, but nonetheless felt as though her words put him on a chopping block without any clue about when the blade would fall. If Dante's interests were always fleeting, and always driven by profit motive--whether financially or sexually speaking--then what about him did Dante have left to take?

"You're pretty quiet," Dante observed seriously. "What's on your mind there, kid?"

"You," Nero said pointedly.

Dante huffed in amusement and said smugly, "Naturally. That's what I like to hear."

"Why did you accept this job, really?" Nero asked, not missing a beat. He felt Dante shrug a little.

"Well, you heard him. He offered us triple for the artifact," Dante said.

"You don't care that he will probably use it, or put this thing on the black market? That it wouldn't be safer to just leave it buried in the woods and just kill all of the demons?"

"No," Dante said simply. Nero was astonished.

"All you want is the fucking money?" Nero said, his ire flaring. He could not believe that his suspicions might be coming true.

"Hey," Dante barked back. Under his arms, Nero felt Dante tense up in full defensive mode. "Maybe to a kid like you life is all one big free ride, but we adults need to actually make a living out of what we do."

"So you don't care about the good of others, just so long as it puts pizza and beer into your belly?" Nero accused.

"I never said that," Dante retorted.

Nero was silent for a moment, but not fully willing to abandon the attack. He wanted to get to the bottom of Dante's motive, but Nero found his byzantine way of responding frustrating to crack. The younger was now feeling even more pissed off than was perhaps rational. "Then what the fuck are we doing?" Nero asked.

Dante sighed and said, "I am going to a godforsaken forest to secure a demonic artifact for a customer. You, kid, are going to shut the fuck up and take notes so you can learn what it means to be a professional."

"Fuck you," Nero spat, infuriated even more now by Dante's belittlement. His face then collided with the elder man's back as Dante suddenly brought the bike to a lurching halt.

Dante stepped off to face Nero and asked, "What the hell has gotten into you?" His tone was piercing.

Unphased, Nero replied, "Honestly? I don't know if I can trust you, Dante."

Dante blinked, recoiling as if Nero had bit him. "Say that again?" Dante said coldly. Nero was not willing to repeat himself, but folded his arms as a clear message of defiance. Dante sighed, looking to and fro in irritation and said, "I can't fucking believe you. This is your first mission for gods' sake. We haven't even gotten there yet, and already you want to start up with this fucking drama?"

"It's not drama," Nero said defensively. "This is important."

Dante laughed, though there was not a trace of amusement. "Go home," he said, turning his back to Nero. "Take the bike if you want."

Nero dropped his arms and paled a bit at the order. "Dante?" Nero questioned, disbelief riddiling his features and causing his voice to waver.

"I can't use a partner who doesn't trust me," Dante explained. "I'll see ya back at the ranch." In a swift motion he took out Rebellion that had been stored on the bike and propped it on his shoulder. He took off in a casual stroll toward the forest, leaving Nero to stare a hole into his back.

Suddenly, anger welled up in Nero like a geyser. He clenched his demon fist and shouted, "I'm not going home!"

Dante paused in his stride and turned to the side, smirking. "Well, I'm sure there's plenty of stuff to do in Dolsin. Go have fun, then," he replied. As he spoke, Nero ripped Red Queen out from the bike approached him.

"I'm not going to let that artifact out of that forest," Nero said, passing Dante by. "I'm going to find it and destroy it."

Dante smiled. "Alright then. We'll make it a race," he suggested. Nero stopped to quirk his brow at the elder hunter. At that Dante nodded and said, "Whoever gets to it first can do whatever they want with it. Use it, sell it, break it, whatever. Oh, and no dirty tricks or asking for help."

Nero smirked and turned back around. "You're on," he said, and continued onward.

Dante shook his head as he watched Nero's form recede. "You'll be sorry," Dante muttered. "But that's the best way to learn."


	15. Red's Run

**A/N:** I just want to come right out and say that I have never been more unsure about publishing a chapter than I am for this one (and the next two that are still in the shop for that matter). The reason being that I've come up with a mini-story arc to drive this next section, and because it involves some major original content, it very well may end up flying over like a lead balloon. I have put a lot of thought into how I am going to present background of this arc, but I may end up killing the story if it sucks or my writing sucks. But I'm charging ahead with it here and I would love to hear what you guys think.

I also had the amazingly brilliant idea of using Word to help with my chronic, careless spelling/grammar problems (I usually write and proofread in spellcheckless notepad). Nevermind that I should have been doing so in the first place! Ahem . So I'm going to make that a habit now.

Anyhoo, please enjoy.

* * *

Dante decided he would give the kid a decent head start. He was delayed anyway, for he had to find a place to hide and lock the bike. But really, he was a good sport.

Despite that time lost, he shouldered Rebellion and continued toward the forest on foot at a casual, unhurried pace, as if he had completely forgotten his challenge to Nero. He hadn't. Rather, while he knew the kid to be quite competent in his demonslaying capabilities, it was also in his modus operandi to dive into situations that measured way above his head. Dante believed it was only a matter of time before the kid screwed up and he would have to come to the rescue. Then together, they would leave with the artifact, get paid, and go home--ideally before Pizza Demon closed.

He smirked. Nero's peevish and reckless personality was endearing for how it reminded Dante of himself in his early days--and painfully so at times. However, Nero's behavior was also a tendency that would have to be ruthlessly excised from his repertoire if the kid was serious about a career in demon hunting.

Even if Nero wasn't serious, Dante certainly was, and that was nonnegotiable. As far as Dante was concerned, the hunting business was Nero's destiny. He had been convinced of it during and after the Fortuna incident, and was the reason he had bestowed his brother's sword on Nero--not just because the kid had earned the right to wield it, but so that Dante would be able to find him again when he felt the time was suitable. Not one to ruin the moment, however, Dante figured that calling the sword a farewell gift sounded better than a tracking device.

Truthfully, Dante would have preferred to let the kid ripen a bit more before plucking him, but was surprised when Nero fell off the branch on his own and to sought him out instead. Dante wondered if the kid was drawn to him completely by his own will, or if Yamato was partially to blame. Or perhaps it was the gravity of fate? Whatever forces were at work, Nero's visit was premature for what Dante had planned. The change in schedule failed to ruffle him, however. Dante was nothing else if not adaptable, and adapting to being his lover was an interesting twist.

Dante stopped. He recalled how Nero looked that morning partially naked on his stairs. He was flawless in form and beaming with vigor--a sight that made Dante completely forget himself. He stared at the ground and sighed at the memory. Interesting indeed.

Nero discovered that night he was attracted to Dante, but the kid in turn had revealed something to Dante about himself. Nero's intimate surrender forced Dante to realize that his interest in the kid's life was not satisfied by that of a master and his apprentice. In such a relationship, once the apprentice learned all they could, the master was no longer needed, and that was the end for all intents and purposes.

Dante would not accept an ending. He would always be directly relevant to Nero's life, even if it was better that Nero learned not to depend on him. Dante was dead set on this outcome--the alternative was a scenario too incomprehensible to acknowledge as a possibility.

Dante realized he was thinking too much, so much that had not noticed when he had stopped dead in his tracks. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was embarrassed to have to remind himself that he had a job to do. His runaway thoughts were a good reason for why he generally disliked working alone.

He tapped Rebellion's blade on his shoulder and resumed his march, distracting himself with what he could observe in the environment as the trees grew closer with each step. A peculiar feature was the border between the forest and meadow--it was distinct, with hardly any secondary growth to wade through though the land was uncultivated. As he entered the forest, he also noted with equal concern how the normal grasses faded into a rust-colored soil that advertised its own unhealthy state. He was also curious about how warped, dry, and gray the trees were, yet their leaves were still a rich hunter green. Dante supposed that the forest had already died long ago, but the trees here refused to accept it.

In addition to the sights, he had immediately detected a great deal of humidity; the atmosphere was sticky, musty, and dank. Despite seeming like a rainforest, Dante felt the heat being leeched from his body, as if the air was hungry for it. In the pockets of lowly ground and shallow drop-offs churned pools of thicker portions of this peculiar air, and above him too floated a thin miasma, trapped by a nearly impenetrable canopy. The canopy also did well in blocking out the sun, and so casted the entire woods in a perpetual twilight. From the sensory evidence he concluded that this was not a place sickened with evil, but drowned in it.

Dante penetrated the woods for some distance, though was not sure exactly how far he walked, or how long he had been traveling. He sighed, feeling his patience wane, but his persistence paid off when a stone path--broken and choked by rude tree growth--emerged out of the haze. The trail led him through more yards between endless tree trunks, then to an large hill, but more than that was a strikingivory spire that rested on top. A staircase wound around its exterior and up to the top, leading to what Dante thought was a tiny, golden, glass-paned lantern room.

Impressive was not so much in its outward design, for it lacked any ornate carvings or gothic attributes that Dante was accustomed to seeing on important buildings. Instead, it was stunning for how it dispelled the lifeless ambience of the forest as if it were a divine intervention. In fact, as Dante approached he saw that the trees had given this place wide berth, and was the only place where direct sunlight touched the forest's rough soil.

Distracted by the tower, he was startled when his foot collided with an object that sounded hollow, and it tumbled away freely. The object appeared to be an smooth, misshapen stone until Dante kicked it again to turn it over. His face fell. Two hollow eye sockets of a human skull stared back at him.  
Morbidly curious, Dante knelt down and picked it up, noting the large, fatal fracture running along the crown. The wound appeared as if it were inflicted by a large, heavy blade, such as a sword or an axe. Dante quirked a brow, and glanced over his shoulder toward where the skull had been originally. As he expected, there lay additional scattered bones--shattered pieces of vertebra, a humerus, a few ribs. Near the humerus appeared also be a sodden, dirt-stained knapsack. From that piece of evidence, Dante figured that this person was likely a looter, and one who ran into some really bad luck.

"Or a hunter," Dante then remarked. His eyes had caught the glint of a shortsword partially buried in the dirt about a yard away from where he knelt. He refocused to the ground around him, noting there were some bullet casings strewn about as well. "Too bad." Dante, with skull in hand, rose to his feet and walked over to the rest of the remains. He placed the head back on the ground with both hands in a show of respect. His attention then went to the knapsack.

He was not usually keen on rummaging through a dead person's belongings, but this discovery was possibly his first clue about his mission, and in the back of his mind he wondered who had been slain. If he was a hunter, there was a possibility that they had been acquainted. He flipped open the bag's largest flap and peered inside. He immediately saw several spare magazines of ammo resting atop more supplies. He lifted the bag and dumped the contents onto the ground. In addition to the ammo, a hunting knife and scraps of moldy rations poured out, though the bag still felt heavy. Dante gave it a rough shake. Then, surprisingly, a hardbound notebook fell out with a dull thunk.

Dante immediately reached out for the notebook. He did not know of many hunters, if any, who went through the trouble of taking notes during their missions. The fact caused him to second-guess this person's former occupation. His curiosity was no less piqued, however, and he opened it to read its contents.

The pages were starchy and filthy. Pinching the paper carefully, he flipped through toward the latest of the entries to read about the decedent's final excursion:

* * *

02/18:

_My wife and I will f-nally set out for Galarea tomorrow. We have spoken with our last informant, and so we have all the informat--n we need. We can hardly imagine humans having lived in such a godforsaken part of our country, much less having called it home. But as I thought, it was not always in such a state. According to --e oral tradition, the people wished to forge unholy weapons to defend themselves against neighboring states. Tragically, the power they called from the Underworld could not be purified by the Sun that they worshipped. Their failure blighted the trees and cursed the soil, ensuring that no manmade civilization could ever thrive there again. Truly, they were a misguided people. If power corrupts, then what disaster could the already corru-ted power of the Underworld bring? However, I regret that it is same mysterious power that now draws us to search for it more than a century later._

* * *

The next page was smeared and blotted even worse than the previous. It read:

* * *

2/19:

_I am wr--ing now since this may be -- last opportunity fo- - while.  
No w-nder the locals never come her-- Even in the de-d of winter, the foliage is still a vibrant green--yet these ar- not like any evergreens I've seen. The leaves brea- away at the sli-htest touch, as if they we-- -ade of dried mud. T-- Eye is said to be just a co-ple hund--d -aces east from the Roya- Tomb. It is under--ound, and we are -esting before we t-k- the plunge into this Hell. We've be-- ambushed a couple of times -- scarecrows. Nothing Sarah and I -an't handl-. The Lamp is sai- to be northwest of here in the Lighth--se and the Swo-d rests in t-- Tomb. As I accounted dur-ng my inve-tigation, our -ources claim they are made from the esse-c- of the very Sun itse--. They w--e forged so that the people could --- day reclaim their land, --- eventually their despair drove th-- to extinction. H-- fas-inat--g, if true at all._

* * *

There was much more to read, but Dante suddenly slammed the journal shut. Behind him, the unmistakable chatters and mad cackles of demons filled the air. He about-faced to see a pack of scarecrows ascend from the earth and limp toward him. He drew his sword, just as a scarecrow bounced and leapt skyward and fell, its bladed leg aimed upon his head.


	16. Dark Blue

**A/N:** Whew! Finally got this next part wrapped up. Again, I hope this next part ends up as more intriguing than boring for the wonderful readers who are still with me so far.

Special thanks for the continued feedback from **IsaacSapphire** and **SirenaLoreley**! I've noticed that they're good about not just reviewing my story, but many others in the DxN fandom as well, and so I think they deserve a LOT of credit. Thanks again, and I'm happy to hear that you two willing to give this next arc a chance! ^.^

Enjoy.

* * *

"Great," Nero remarked as he came upon his first landmark--a pauper's graveyard. The unmarked, sunken tracts in the earth would have rendered the cemetery invisible to him, except that invading tree roots had upturned a number of plots and littered the of human remains. There was also a brick border that blocked off the ground, around which Nero passed by respectfully. The cemetery was his clue that people did live in the forest at one point, but he was not thrilled to have a place of death be the first thing to greet him.

Nero had charged into Galarea forest, determined to get as much of a head start on Dante as possible. Despite his haste, however, he was not foolish enough to disregard his surroundings, nor attune his senses to the sights, scents, and sounds of the environment.

"Pretty much your average demon's stomping ground," Nero observed aloud as he stepped over gnarled roots and debris. He instinctually kept his left hand on Red Queen's blade, but his heightened senses detected nothing as he came upon his next clue--a pair of shattered stone columns leading away from the cemetery. He examined them and their broken remains, then glanced around to see if there was more to investigate. Through the dim fog he spotted the next column pair, one that was in no better shape. This column pair led him to another, and to another, and he followed a number of them up and over a shallow incline. As the trail columns stopped short at the edge of the hill, so did he, for it led him to a large depression in the hillside. Below in the valley existed a cavernous stone entrance cut into the opposite bluff from where Nero stood. An intricate golden archway and jamb bordered the entrance, both sprouting golden waves that radiated outward. Contrasted with the blackness of the opening, the appearance was like that of a solar eclipse.

With feline grace, Nero leaped down into the pit. He found the alien design peculiar. Upon closer inspection, he noted that the jambs were also checkered with layered, square tiles that fanned up and outward like feathers, though many had chipped off. He guessed that whatever civilization had lived here had probably been extinct for a long time, for he had little to compare it to in the outside world.

He would save his speculations for later. His legs were galvanized by the hope that he the entrance would lead to a storehouse, and among the cache would be whatever object the mayor wanted. It occurred to him that Samler was not very specific about what exactly he was looking for, but presumed that if it were important enough, he would know it when he saw it. Nero also presumed that if Dante had heard of this thing, then he probably had a better idea of what to look for. He grit his teeth in irritation. That advantage did not rest well, and so Nero was eager to pick up the pace.

Nero was forced to stop, however. Wherever the passageway led, it was not any brighter than the outside. Nero refused to go on into the pitch black without a light. He racked his brain for a solution.

He looked down to his gloved demon arm when an idea struck him and forced out a humorless chuckle. "I can't believe this," Nero said with resignation. He peeled off Trish's glove from his right arm. To his shame, the hot blue glow of his Devil Bringer made a decent torch, especially when he concentrated his demonic energy into making it even brighter. He gazed down at his palm and sighed at the irony. His hated appendage had come through for him again, but it was better than nothing. He could live it down if he beat Dante at his own game. He had an upper hand, so to speak, and that brightened Nero's outlook considerably. He thus raised his right hand before him, and with cautious steps, led himself through the darkness.

He dashed through the entrance and down a long, dark passageway. The air was stale and cold, and his nose crumpled when he noted a vaguely rotten stench. From that clue, Nero figured was headed inside a catacomb rather than a storehouse. He continued anyway, figuring that even a tomb might still be worth investigating.

Eventually, the passageway expanded, and led himself into an open room. The light of his hand revealed the chipped painting of a golden floor design, much like the celestial design on the door, as well as the curvature of the walls that indicated the room's circular shape. With silent steps he advanced further into the room. Even with the light, he let his ears and his acute ability to sense evil energies scope out the room for him. With no disturbances detected, he continued on until the light of his hand illuminated the outline of a polished stone box elevated by a border of shallow marble steps.

"A mausoleum," Nero said, realizing the stone box was not a box, but a casket. Curious, Nero approached to view it, hovering his right hand above the lid. The lid was carved in the shape of a robed, bearded man lying in peaceful repose. That, however, did not catch his eye so much as what the man was holding in his hands--a stunning longsword of a peculiar shape. The main blade was pure white as if made from ivory, and dimpled as it grew from its golden hilt. The blade then tapered and expanded out again into a smooth spade.

"Is this it?" Nero wondered, placing his left hand on the handle so he could try to pry it loose.

He paused. While distracted by the sword, he hardly noticed that glowing red spikes had appeared from the sides of the coffin. The spikes slashed upwards in one split-second stroke, passing right through the stone in a deadly sweep.

The spikes were fast, but not fast enough. Nero just narrowly avoided being shredded, and landed on his feet a yard away to watch as his attacker revealed itself. Nero smiled, knowing those kinds of claws could belong to no other demon than a Faust. The Faust rose from the casket like a ghost with its deadly fingers folded against its cloak.

"It's about time," Nero said, revving up Red Queen. Though it was dark, the Faust's bright weapons in addition to the Devil Bringer's light nullified that advantage. Even as the Faust's naked and vulnerable form attempted to scurry away to the safety of the shadows, the grip of Devil Bringer never allowed it to get too far. In little time, Nero defeated it soundly.

He resheathed Red Queen and located the casket. He resumed his attempt to extract the sword. Using even greater caution, he put his left hand on the hilt and jerked it. He stumbled back a little as the sword snapped away with ease.

"Heh," he said, examining the weapon and feeling its remarkably light weight. "Looks like I've got this in the bag, you old bastard." He smiled and sheathed the sword under Red Queen for safekeeping. He fantasized the moment when he would gloat and rub it in Dante's smug face. "He'll be sorry."

He had little time to revel in his victory. A low growl entered his ears and he froze, now feeling the evil battle aura of a demon develop behind him. He spun around to see two glowing red eyes in the dark stalking toward him. The demon hissed and squealed with hostility.

From experience, Nero was quite familiar with such feral dialogue. "An Assault, huh?" he said. He brought his right hand out to light the ground between him and his enemy, and used his left to thrust down the point of Red Queen beside him. He revved its hilt once and said, "And no friends, either? That's pathetic."

The demon snarled, stopping just outside the light of Nero's palm.

"Come on, then!" Nero challenged. He dashed forward and swung Red Queen down hard upon the creature.

To his great surprise, Red Queen bounced off of the demon as if he had struck the side of a mountain. He stumbled backward. In the moment he was stunned, the demon snorted and brought its clawed hand across in a violent arc. The attack connected brutally with Nero's frame, sweeping the hunter clear off of his feet. He landed some feet away, feeling as though Berial had sat on his chest. He groaned and winced in pain.

His body was in shock, but he was immobilized with utter confusion as to what he was up against. Assaults were mean customers, but none ever had the power to knock him senseless with one blow. He also knew they carried bucklers, but he could have sworn he made a direct hit on an unarmored shoulder joint. He also swore he felt sand blast his face from the impact of his powerful yet ineffective blow.

He would have reflected further if he had not looked up to see those red eyes coming upon him again. He could just make out the demon raising its arm high above itself, and Nero instantly regained the presence of mind to leap off of his shoulders and onto his feet before the demon could crush him in a single devastating blow. The floor crumbled and caved like an eggshell with the impact, and it was then that Nero realized that its hand was not made of flesh, but of stone.

"What the hell," Nero breathed, wincing from the lingering ache in his right side. He gripped Red Queen's handle tightly. "At least this won't be so easy anymore."

The demon stalked toward him again. In a swift motion, Nero sheathed Red Queen and whipped out Blue Rose. He pegged the demon with a couple of rounds. The demon hardly stumbled, shrugging off the impact and maintaining its focus upon the hunter, its prey.

Seeing the effect of Blue Rose--or lack thereof--Nero clenched the last defense he had in his arsenal. The stone Assault lunged, and Nero simultaneously cast the ghostly projection of his hand. The demon slammed into his palm, and Nero curled the fingers around its shoulders. Nero then lifted the massive creature off of its feet.

Pain exploded from his side and shot through his limbs. The Devil Bringer fizzled, and Nero clutched his right side in agony as a stone projectile pierced him through like an arrow. He fell to one knee, and the demon in is hand slipped from his grip.

Nero groaned, fighting the urge to double over. He wrenched the talon from his side and looked to his right, seeing another pair of eyes. Nero cursed again, throwing the bloody spike away.

The former demon had already recovered. Nero watched as the Assault threw its head back and bark loudly, the sound fading into something like a cackle. An additional Assault, one that was clinging to the ceiling, tittered in response. The third Assault leapt down to ground level to join its comrades. "Like you need any backup," Nero growled.

He weighed his chances quickly and settled on a solution. He fled. He searched the rounded perimeter for the passageway that would lead him outside. He had to escape, and to find Dante. Dante. Instantly, the tears from his physical pain transformed into ones of inexplicable fury. He burned at the notion of seeing the senior hunter, yet he so desperately wanted to feel the elder's arms around him again. He breathed out a frustrated sob, for he hated having such a desire in a time of crisis.

Finally, the glow of his hand revealed the outline of a doorway and he rushed through it. He felt the ground shake, alerting him that the Assaults were in hot pursuit. He dared not to look behind him, and hoped to greet the light of the outside soon.

But the light never appeared. Fear and self-reproach invaded Nero's heart--he had chosen the wrong way. Following his heart, his mind gave into despair. He was now headed into the depths of some godforsaken dungeon, and there was a greater chance that he would be trapped by more stone demons. Though his heart and mind were resigned, his feet kept moving, knowing it was the only thing he could do while the savage snarls and growls of his foes resonated behind him.

He was relieved to see the corridor finally open up again. His sprint came to an abrupt halt, however, when his feet met the edge of a platform that dropped off into a black pit. He chose that moment to spin around, seeing the demons rushing toward him. With no better recourse, Nero held his breath and jumped. By pure luck, he felt only a few yards onto a marble floor. Instinctually, he darted from the spot and narrowly avoided being crushed under the Assaults that had followed him below.

He rolled away and onto his knees. The landing had exacerbated the throbbing in Nero's torso and he faltered. He gulped down air past the burning of his throat and lungs, trying to mentally suppress the agony as he made ready for another sprint. He was intent on making a beeline for the opposite end of the chamber where he hoped was an exit.

He was too late. The lead Assault bounded toward him, and he could only force himself from his knees in time to turn around defend himself. Nero steeled himself. With a defiant cry, Nero triggered. The enhanced strength allowed him to fully parry an incoming swipe with Red Queen, but as he deflected the blow, the brutal impact wrenched Red Queen's hilt from Nero's hand and flung the blade deep into the darkness. Having been so disarmed, Nero felt the tug of death in his mind--of finality--when the Assault thrust its stone paw forward in a mighty jab.

Nero brought his Devil Bringer across and shielded himself with Yamato. The sword and arm absorbed the deadly force of the impact with an ear-piercing clang. The power shuddered through him and knocked him backwards. His back collided roughly with what felt to be a wall. The shock jostled his internal injuries and he nearly wretched from the pain. His legs quaked and he gasped for a moment, but the warmth of Yamato's strength quickly revived him. The lead Assault attacked him again, and he dove out and under its next swing. He rolled away again when the second Assault attempted to trample him underfoot. Next, he just nearly avoided a peppering of thick spikes shot from the third Assault. Nero then rose to his feet and grunted in frustration. The exertion was unbearable. Even though Yamato was making it possible, he knew he was wasting his time. He rested on one knee, pressing the point of the sword into the ground to lean on it, but it was already starting to fizzle and fade. Nero wounds were quickly draining its rejuvenating light.

Nero then reached behind him and pulled out the ivory sword he had pilfered. He was not willing to use the weapon, and had nearly forgotten it was there because it was so light. From the blade's weight and form, he concluded that it was ornamental only and nowhere near the strength of an actual combat sword. Psychologically, however, it was the last thing that kept him from giving up completely. He rose to his feet, the red light of his eyes finally dying out.

An Assault squealed and lunged. It drew its claws across in a vicious sweep that would instantly disembowel any man. Nero cried out, holding out the blade of the sword to intercept it, knowing it would snap in half and that he would perish. He could not help but feel tremendous anguish as he realized his unforgivable failure. He wondered if Dante would find him, or if anyone would--it was such a cold and lonely place to die.

A moment passed, enough time for Nero to realize that he had shut his eyes. He opened them when he heard an agonizing screech, for the sound was decidedly not one of pleasure. He spotted the Assault in distress. The creature was clutching its arm where its hand had been severed at the wrist. Then, Nero realized that the white sword had cut through its stone exterior like it was butter. Sadistic amusement welled up within his breast, a side effect of the utter relief that swept over him.

"Well, look who's fucked now," Nero said scornfully. In one slice he dispatched the wounded Assault. The demon groaned and fell to the ground like a falling tree and disintegrated on impact. He next leapt toward the nearest pair of eyes. He beheaded the demon with a swift stroke. Seeing the fate of its comrades, the last Assault attempted to flee. "Oh, no you don't," Nero called, extending Devil Bringer. The projection found its tail and yanked it back, and Nero exacted merciless vengeance.

Now out of danger, Nero breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the adrenaline seep from his system. He winced and touched a hand to his side. Though Yamato had done a fair job when it had accelerated his healing factor, Nero was certain that a few ribs would remain broken until after this job was finished. He glanced down at the sword in his hand, no less grateful that his injuries were all that he would suffer. His most pressing desire now was to retrieve Red Queen.

But when Nero began to search, he was startled to look up and see the features of an enormous beast planted in the center of the room. Nero held out his Devil Bringer to examine it more closely. From his vantage point he saw that it was reptilian, but the way it was reared on its hind legs suggested a build like a lion's. As he circled around to its front he noted the layers of mottled fins and spikes that fanned out all over its head and neck. Its countenance was a ferocious, like that of a viper in midstrike.

Even more strange was that the beast was tightly wrapped in a net of roots, like those of the trees he saw on the surface. It occurred to him that he did not run into a wall earlier, but into the great flank of this monument.

"Did they worship this thing?" Nero asked, though it did not make sense to him if they did. He cared even less about the question when he then saw a crystal the size of a softball in the statue's dragonlike hand. The creature seemed to be offering it to him like a gift.

Cautiously, Nero hovered Devil Bringer next to the jewel, marveling that it was a perfect sphere. The blue light of his hand was fully absorbed by its blackened, dimly violet hue.

"Maybe this is what the mayor wanted?" Nero asked aloud. Seeing no harm in taking it anyway, Nero sheathed the white blade behind his back and placed his human hand on the jewel.

Suddenly, his hand felt magnetized to it, and his vision grew distorted. His pulse raced with fear, and he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He looked up, and blanched when he saw that the beast's blank eyes had come to life, and twisted itself to stare at Nero directly. Nero met the narrow slits of its pupils, and he felt his devil trigger explode from his arm and fill him with a sense of anger and malice.

Nero shut his eyes and overcame his loss of control. He cried out and wrenched his human hand free of the jewel and stumbled backwards. His vision snapped back to normal, and he was confused to see that the statue had also reverted to its original, lifeless state in that instant. He was also no longer triggered. It occurred to him that he had hallucinated, but he could still feel the malevolence the beast had imparted to him.

His brow furrowed, however, when he felt his fingers grow stiff. He looked down. To his horror, both his human and demon hands transformed into stone, and the affliction continued to race up his arms.

"No!" Nero yelled. He felt as though he was being absorbed into the Savior once again. He tried to move, but he could hardly lift his feet--the bottom half of his legs were already turning to stone as well, and could do nothing as the curse immobilized him past his thighs and waist.

"Dante!" Nero shouted in vain. The shrill sound of his desperation reverberated throughout the cavernous chamber, but soon the air stilled, and all fell silent. The Devil Bringer's light dimmed and went out. The frozen hunter, appearing as though he were pleading for mercy, had been denied and punished for his defeat.


End file.
